


I Know What I Want

by salamandersaladman



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Gay Character, Hurt/Comfort, Lams is endgame, M/M, Minor Violence, Pan Character, Pining, So much angst, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love, alex and laf sleep around a lot, bi character, everybody is in love with everybody, google translated french, lots of pining, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 169,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7461894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamandersaladman/pseuds/salamandersaladman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody wants to be loved, and Alexander Hamilton is no exception. Besides, what possible repercussions could there be to wanting to be surrounded by admirers? Even if one of them is your best friend.</p><p>College!AU in which everybody in the hamilsquad is just trying to navigate their love lives, and literally everyone knows John is in love with Alex. Especially Alex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Everybody fucking loves  _ The Notebook _ , Alex,”  Hercules tutted disapprovingly from the driver’s seat and Laf turned from beside him, practically falling out of his chair to glare at the smaller man in the backseat who had his arms crossed.

 

“Alexander,  _ mon cher imbécile _ , we do not control what movies the drive in has to offer. Why are you complaining to see Ryan Gosling shirtless?” Laf had always been the oldest in the group, and often adopted a slightly condescending tone because of it. Especially when he thought someone else was just blatantly wrong.

 

_ Don’t make me regret teaching you English asshole.  _ Alex didn’t really mind the movie so much, but he had been outnumbered in deciding where they went for dinner, and was fucking sick of Chipotle, so he was feeling incredibly bitter.

 

“The cheap salty popcorn will make it worth it.” John reassured him, placing a hand tentatively on Alex’s upper leg. “It’ll get the taste of unauthentic Mexican food out of your mouth.”

 

Of course, John knew the real reason Alex was acting so grouchy. The curly haired boy gave him a hesitant smile, always always hesitant, before seeming to suddenly become aware of his hand and pulling it back.

 

Alex pretended not to notice the way Laf smirked and waggled his eyebrows at the boy seated beside him, John’s blush making his freckles all the more prominent.

 

The four had met Alex’s freshman year of college, Alex having to dorm with a boy three years his senior yet only just enrolling in college.

 

“ _ I took several years off to travel _ ,” Laf had told him in thick French, new to the country but just as poised and at ease as Alex would come to learn he always was. “ _ Funny how they grouped the immigrants together, eh _ ?”

 

They had been inseparable since. It took Lafayette only a couple weeks to gather a basic grasp on English, and while he wasn't fluent, he still managed to charm the uncharmable. Particularly in the form of one Hercules Mulligan.

 

“ _ Je vais avoir des relations sexuelles avec l'aide de l'enseignant, _ ” Laf had unceremoniously announced as he threw himself on Alex’s bed, crushing several scattered papers.

 

“English Laf.” Alex corrected him with a frown, shoving the frenchman to an upright sitting position to rescue his seventeen extra credit projects that no teacher had asked for.

 

“I am wanting to, how you say, fuck the gov TA.” He crossed his long legs and smirked at Alex’s disapproving gaze.

 

“That huge guy who just stands silently at the doorway? The guy who looks like he could crush us with his bare hands? The guy who has not smiled once all semester?!”

 

“ _ Oui. _ ”

 

“ _ Vous serez la mort de moi _ .” Alex groaned in exasperation.

 

“English Alex.” Laf corrected him and Alexander reached to strangle him, the two ending up cackling obnoxiously.

 

It had been a funny idea in the moment, but Alex cringed when, the next morning, instead of joining him in his usual seat, Lafayette sauntered over to the tall dark man lumbering in the desk at the corner of the room. Alex had no idea what his roommate's plan was, but it clearly involved wearing the tightest jeans on the planet.

“ _ Bonjour monsieur _ ,” Alex recognized the slightly higher lilt to Laf’s voice, the way he made his accent thicker but not overpowering, almost feminine in his stance. The boy leaned over the desk as the TA looked up at his, face void of expression. “I had some, how you say, questions on the homework? Perhaps you could ah,  _ aidez moi  _ with some of it.”

 

“You need help?” It was the first time Alex had heard him speak, voice gruff and loud but not unkind.

 

“ _ Oui _ .” Laf was practically batting his eyelashes and he leaned closer on the desk. Probably intending to use his famous “the French have different concepts of personal space” argument that always came up in his failed attempts at seduction.  _ Not that he ever really fails. _

 

“Well uh, here.” The TA scribbled something down hastily on a piece of paper before passing it to Laf, eyes still betraying nothing. “Class is about to start but if you wanna text me, we can meet up somewhere after and I’ll give you pointers.” Lafayette blinked slowly, looking quite like the cat who got the cream.

 

“I am most grateful,  _ monsieur _ ..?”

 

“Mulligan. My name’s Hercules Mulligan but everyone just calls me by my last name.”

 

“I look forward to it Hercules.” Laf leaned forward and kissed the man once on both cheeks, finally eliciting a bashful reaction from the suddenly much less imposing man. “ _ Je m’appelle _ -”

 

“Lafayette.” The man smiled-actually  _ smiled _ -sheepishly. “Yeah I uh, I know who you are.”

 

At this point, Alex had come to know Laf better than he had known his own brother. The two had spent essentially every waking moment together, attached at the hip in both meals and studies. Alex had seen the boy fully naked within the first twenty four hours of them living together (“Alexander, the body is art nothing to be embarrassed of this is my home too I can dress as much or as little as I like and you covering your eyes is actually offending  _ me”) _ and had seen him cry over home, had seen him angry and happy and so tired he couldn’t handle English or French. And yet Alexander had never seen Lafayette flustered, not remotely. But when Mulligan said that he already knew his name, the boy looked honest to god speechless.

 

“I-I’ll text you.” Laf stammered and Mulligan smiled at him endearingly, like Laf was a kitten learning how to walk.

 

“You do that.”

 

Sure enough, the next night Hercules was in their dorm room, eating pizza and drinking wine, and Alex quickly learned that beneath that threatening exterior was a man as soft as a marshmallow. He didn't think the two ever actually hooked up, but he was too nervous to ask. Especially considering he still had no idea what his large friend’s sexuality was. 

 

Essential the entire group was queer. He was bi, John was gay, Laf was pan. But whenever the subject came up, Herc had just smiled mysteriously until Alex’s not knowing became an inside joke. He never talked about girls, but he never talked about guys either. Whenever they all got drunk and talked about ideal relationships (John’s always sounding eerily similar to the friendship he already had with Alex), Herc was either vague or silent.

 

“So asexual then? Because that's totally normal and-”

 

“Alex,” Herc had interrupted him with an amused smirk. “Me not telling you has nothing to do with my personal security. I just like the idea that information exists in the world that you have no possible way to get your hands on.”

Alex had practically shrieked in frustration. 

 

He consoled himself by deciding he’d rather not know. Especially considering how much time he spent lounging in Laf’s bed.

 

John Laurens had been the last to join their little foursome, only this time it had been Alex who had discovered him. 

 

Alexander was an active and outspoken member of several on campus clubs, including but not limited to Queers & Allies Club, Latino Club, Black Student Association (BSA, as his friends insisted he use acronyms to save breath), Social Justice Club, and the Debate Club. While Lafayette, in between his studying and active sex life, often went to a couple clubs with Alex, for the most part he attended alone. It was fine by Alex, he didn’t go to the meetings to make friends. He’d admit now, with only mild embarrassment, that he had signed up for so many clubs thinking he would become the epitome of enlightenment in all of them. That he would march in there with his loud opinions and zealous passion and become a champion of the minorities.

 

To his surprise and initial disappointment, all the clubs were incredibly well established and encouraging before he had so much as set foot in the door. It was humbling, to be able to learn and obtain so many new perspective, but Alex was grateful for it. As much as he loved to teach, he loved to learn even more. The clubs were also a way for him to add to his expansive reservoir of knowledge he could use during debates.

 

Once Alex had adjusted to this new concept of every meeting not revolving around him, he became aware of small details. He lived his life so fast paced that many memories blended together, which is perhaps why it took him so long to notice. But Alex became aware that he was not the only person involved in four different clubs.

 

With the exception of Debate, he noticed a curly haired boy ever present in every meeting. The boy was quiet and reserved but when he did speak, he was never wrong. It was always in a respectful tone, far from Alex’s own arrogance, but often offering insight and gentle propositions that surprised the boy so full of righteous anger.

 

And he began to feel the heat of soft brown eyes watching him when he spoke, absorbing his words. 

 

Alex had always preened in attention, he considered it to be his hamartia. (“You have many fatal flaws, my friend.” Lafayette had teased him when Alex professed this.) That any time a person looked at him with admiration, or desire, he became obsessed. He couldn’t say no.

 

“Hey.” It had been luck, sheer luck, that Alex caught the boy sitting alone at a table in the back of the library. Typically the boy left immediately after meetings, while Alex was a classic lingerer, so he never got the chance to approach his mysterious fan. And today was outside of Alex’s usual schedule. Typically after his late lunch he went back to the dorm to study, but Laf had sent him an overly personal text explaining that the room would be occupied for the better half of the afternoon, so he carried his little sandwich and textbooks over to the fifth floor of the library. “Mind if I sit here?”

 

He glanced up in surprise from typing away at his laptop, but his smile as he nodded was so sincere that Alex felt warm down to his toes. He recognized that shy smile, the eagerness in his gaze.  _ He wants me. _

 

“This is embarrassing but, even though we see each other almost every weekday, I still don’t know your name.” Alex smiled at him apologetically and the boy smirked.

 

“That’s because you open your mouth the second the meetings start and don’t close it again until at least ten minutes past the end. I’m John.” The boy’s witty teasing was pleasant and unexpected, only sharpening Alex’s interest. He took the boy’s extended hand and held it longer than necessary, locking eyes with his new prey.

“I’m Alexander Hamilton. And you’ve only just  _ begun  _ to hear me rant.”

 

Time never escaped Alex, but he spent a little over four hours just laughing and talking with his fast friend, barely noticing the setting sun. He put all his usual feelers out there, hinting at John coming back to his dorm for the night, casually brushing their hands together. But either John wasn’t half as interested as Alex initially expected, or he was woefully oblivious. It was frustrating, considering Alex wanted to see very badly just how far down his neck the boy’s freckles went, but the conversation was so effortless that Alex was grateful he hadn’t turned John into just another one night stand. 

The two ended up together before and after every club meeting, and soon Lafayette and Hercules were just rolling their eyes at the rapid fire way the duo would go off on particular topics. 

 

Alex valued John too much as a friend now to ever sleep with him, they just understood one another in a way Alex had never before experienced.

 

It was unfortunate, however, that John was completely in love with him.

 

All of them knew it, even Alex, although he pretended not too. He thought it was sweet, the way a little wink or long hug could fluster his friend. But the deeper, darker parts of him whispered that he kept John around because he loved being fawned over. That he was just using his friend, just hurting him.

 

“Well next time I want Olive Garden.” Alex whined, flashing a cheesy grin at John. Hercules snorted.

 

“If we didn’t drag your ass out of the dorm you’d be living off cafeteria food. Consider Chipotle a blessing.”

 

“How can you guys be  _ sure  _ that e. Coli outbreak is over?! I could be dying  _ right now _ .”

 

“And I could be killing you right now. But then they would assign me a roommate at random who might be less accepting of my promiscuous ways.”

 

“No.” Hercules didn't take his eyes from the road but Alex could hear the laughter in his voice. “When the next semester started you could just request a roommate. And if we request each other it’ll work out fine.”

 

“ _ Merveilleux _ ,” Laf tilted his head back to laugh, an incredibly contagious sound. “So you see Alex, nothing to protect you from my wrath.”

 

“Ah you wouldn't do that to Johnny-boy would you?” Alex slung an arm affectionately around his friend, pulling him close. “Who’d keep him company at the next BSA rally?”

 

“We’re both significantly blacker than you.” Hercules arched an eyebrow. “So I’m sure he’d do just fine.”

 

“Plus,” John smirked. “I might actually have a chance to get a word in if you aren’t screeching beside me.”

 

“Well fine.” Alex threw his hands up, playfully shoving John away. “You all have clearly had time to think this over. Just go on with my execution then.”

 

“So touchy, poor little baby Alex.” Lafayette crooned, unbuckling his seatbelt to climb into the back with a mischievous little grin.

 

“Driving!!” Hercules yelled with no real anger as Lafayette climbed into Alex’s lap, taking up practically the entire back seat of the little car with his long legs.

 

“If we murdered you Alexander, who would be left to do my government homework for fun?”

 

“Hey I used to be TA over you guys, I could still get your asses kicked for that.” 

 

“It was two years ago,” Lafayette stuck his tongue out. “Get over your power complex.”

 

“Guys guys we’re here!” John was hiding his laughter, shushing them. “Laf maybe if you flirt with the ticket guy again we can get free admission.”

 

“Shit, its a lady this time. Not my strong suite.” Laf giggled and Herc waved at them to be quiet as he rolled down his window to pay. “Although, who is it I am kidding? Everyone is my strong suite.”

 

“Maybe you could flirt with them John.” Alex smiled at him over the top of Laf’s curly mane. “You could be pretty charming, with a face like that.”

 

“ _ Tu es horrible _ ,” Lafayette scolded him when John turned beet red.

 

“Well thanks guys.” Herc pulled into a parking spot near one of the giant screens, the lot packed with cars and teenage couples. “The ticket lady gave me the weirdest look when she saw three dudes piled on top of one another in my backseat.”

 

“Maybe she correctly assumed we are your foreign lovers.” Laf wiggled his eyebrows and Herc slammed on the brakes so that the Frenchman fell over with a squeal. “ _ Connard _ .”

 

“Get those long legs back up here to help me figure out how to hook up the stereo to the speakers.” Laf climbed over to adjust the sound with Herc, leaving John and Alex alone in the back once more.

 

“You don’t really hate this movie do you?” John was smiling softly at him. “Because it makes me cry literally every time and I’m gonna need someone to hold my hand.”

 

“Don't worry,” Alex winked at him. “I’ll just point out all the most meme worthy moments until you’re either so amused or annoyed you’ll forget to be sad.”

 

“Hey  _ amoureux, _ wanna go grab us all some of that famous stale popcorn John was hyping up?”

 

“Yeah c’mon.” 

 

Alex and John headed towards the snack shack as the sun was beginning to set, the orangish light making them both glow. 

 

“Oh my god, you’re never gonna guess what happened in debate today.” Alex was practically bouncing.

 

“I’m just going to go out on a limb and guess it has something to do with Jefferson.”

 

“I fucking  _ destroyed  _ him when it came to water politics.”

 

“Water politics?” John shook his head, laughter shaking his shoulders. “God, you have an opinion on everything don’t you?”

 

“Water politics.” Alex was grinning. “Like, how bottled water is just capitalism convincing us to pay for something we get for free, when tap water is actually better for our health. And how Nestle is taking advantage of California’s drought. Stuff like that.”

 

“And what was T Jeff’s argument?” John paid for a couple bags of popcorn from the vendor, tossing a few pieces into his mouth while he absorbed the show that was Alex.

 

“He’s just an asshole. He was trying to take a stance that implied clean water was a privilege not a right.” Alex made a sound of contempt. “As if anybody doesn't deserve to be alive.”

 

The moon was now rising in the sky, white and bright, and was reflected in John’s eyes as he gazed at Alex. The shorter boy felt heavy, like he had swallowed the ocean.

 

“Hey, c’mere.” He beckoned John closer, reaching his arms up around his neck. “Can I take your hair down? I like how fluffy it looks.”

 

His tone was light, teasing, but John’s expression as he nodded was anything but.

Alex gently tugged out his friend’s ponytail, cautious of pulling his hair, and grinned as John’s wildly curly hair came tumbling down, tangling his fingers in it.

 

“Awe you look so cute with your little lion’s mane.”

 

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a kitten.” John teased, grabbing another handful of popcorn to shove in his mouth. Alex ran his hands through the boy’s hair, humming to himself as he smoothed out the strands in his friend’s face. Watching John almost choke.

 

_ You know what you’re doing. You know exactly what you’re doing. _

 

“Alright let’s go back before you devour all four bags of popcorn.” Alex dodged John’s halfhearted slap and they walked back laughing, arm in arm.

 

* * *

 

 

“Alexander, hang on a minute!”

 

Alex paused outside of the classroom where debate was held as a girl with lavender lips and a lavender sweater caught his arm, her typical no-nonsense expression making her look both beautiful and lethal.

 

Angelica Schuyler was the president of Queers & Allies, so of course they knew one another. Alex was certain they would've found one another regardless, their gravitational pull enough to move mountains.

 

The first meeting of the year, with his head full of nothing but himself, he hadn’t expected to encounter fire like his own. But she matched him wit for wit, blow for blow. If he wasn’t a little bit afraid of her, he might’ve been convinced they were soulmates.

 

“What is it Ang?” He smirked, knowing he’d never get away with the nickname. He just loved to test the boundaries with this girl. To push her.

 

“My name is Angelica, not Ang.” She scowled. “You remember that the Q&A bonfire is this Saturday right? I just need your word that you’ll be there, because as Treasury you actually need to come to the events. And to bring people, we need to expand.”

 

“I always bring John.”

 

“He’s already in the club, asshole.” When Angelica insulted him it felt all the more potent, because she always maintained an air of collectedness. She could casually curse him out, in reality unbothered, and Alex had always envied that. He wore his rage on his sleeve, another hubris. “Why don’t you bring those little friends you always hang out with. I know you don’t do shit on the weekends anyway.”

 

“Alright I’ll be there.” He grinned and squeezed her arm. “It’s just the beginning of the year Ang, lighten up a little.”

 

“Just show up Alexander.” She rolled her eyes. “With at least one other person besides your boyfriend.”

 

“Discussing next week's debate I presume?”

 

Alex tried not to visible gag as the Debate Club vice president came sauntering up, wrapping an arm around both of their necks and causing Alex to squirm with discomfort.

 

“We were discussing all the people we’ve fucked actually.” Alex snarled. “And how none of them were you.”

 

Thomas Jefferson smirked and Alexander felt his face heat up. Both Angelica and John could stare someone like Jefferson in the face and display complete apathy, despite disliking him just as much as Alex. But all the man had to do was breathe near him and Alex was ready to fight. It took next to nothing for Thomas to get under his skin, and both of them knew it. Iit made Debate go either miserably or wonderfully comedic. 

 

“Alexander, I wouldn’t touch you if my mother’s French vacation house depended on it. Angelica here however...”

 

“Dream on.” She had already escaped his touch, tapping away on her phone And sauntering off as if nobody else existed in the world. “Don’t forget Alex!” 

 

If Alex didn’t hate Thomas so much he might have pitied him, he suspected that the prick really had a crush on her.

 

“Hey,” He nudged the over dressed man who was gazing after the sway of Angelica’s skirt as she walked away. “Our club, Q&A is having a little beach party thing out on Long Island. You should come.” 

 

“Huh?” Thomas was visibly taken aback, his eyes immediately jerking to Alex. “ _ You _ want  _ me  _ to come to your little party?”

 

“Sure.” Thomas scoffed.

 

“Do you honestly think I have nothing better to do on a Saturday then go to a party that probably won’t even have booze?”

 

“I know that it would mean a lot to Angelica, considering she’s been planning this almost all summer.” 

 

Thomas looked him up and down, clearly analyzing Alex’s intentions. Alex supposed if he were being honest with himself, he didn’t  _ really _ hate Thomas. The man was a nuisance and incredibly pretentious, but Alex reserved words like hate for truly despicable people, not that he would ever admit to anything less. He and Thomas had very similar ideologies, just with a slightly different focus. Alex saw all the individual puzzle pieces, people and ideas binding things together. Thomas saw only the big picture, the finished product. They were on the same wavelength, just a different frequency. Alex often thought that was the reason they clashed so often; they were too alike. Thomas would probably laugh in his face if Alex ever brought it up. He thought he was better than Alexander, it was obvious from the contempt in his eyes to the way he spoke down to him.

 

“Oh-kay.” Thomas took a long sigh, dragging the syllables out like he was being forced to do some impossible but charitous task. “I guess I can swing by. Lafayette is coming?”

 

“Yes.” Alex was already regretting his invitation, having forgotten that his roommates was actually friends with Thomas. Unironically.

 

“Ah,  _ someone _ who can appreciate the finer things in life with me.” He hummed contentedly and brushed off his coat sleeves.  _ I’ll bet he thinks he looks real dapper. _ “Then I’ll see you Saturday Hamilton.”

 

“Until Saturday, Jefferson.”  
  


* * *

John Laurens was not the only one in love with Alexander Hamilton, he just had the misfortune of being the most obvious.

 

_ No,  _ Angelica Schuyler mused to herself, sipping a glass of pink wine,  _ not all of us wear our heart on our sleeve. _

 

She knew, funnily enough, that she was out of Alex’s league. It wasn’t that he was unattractive, or even stupid. He just possessed a sort of recklessness, an inevitable air of self destruction around him, that warned people with reputations to stay away. People with class.

Instead it drew her in, like a moth to a flame.

 

Angelica had always been the responsible one, the one who looked out for her siblings more than herself. She wasn’t the type to risk it all on a dare, to throw caution to the wind. Which was precisely why she was not pursuing Alexander.

She could have him, if she really wanted him. Of that there was no question. His type was typical; the hotheaded kid with low self esteem who thrives on worship. If she displayed even the slightest interest, Angelica had no doubt that he would follow her every move. But unlike him, she didn’t need a small army of people in love with her in order to feel secure.

 

Besides, there was a fire inside his eyes that scared her. She had never relinquished control in her life, but from that look in his eyes she knew that if they were together she would have no choice.  _ He would destroy me. _ She knew, but the thought was tantalizing.

 

She knew Alexander thought they had met in Q&A, but that was because he had been too drunk to recall their true first encounter. Perhaps that was for the best.

 

It was only about a week into the semester a couple years ago, a welcome back party for those who had gone home across the states and had finally made their way back to New York. That year Angelica was a sophomore, Alexander and her sister Eliza both entering as freshman. She hadn’t allowed her sister to attend the party that night, still too new to the party scene to know that “No Freshman Allowed” didn’t apply to the gorgeous. She would learn.

 

She had been leaning against a wall, tugging at her dress that kept riding up, when a short kid came and leaned against the wall beside her.

 

Her vision was swirling, having just taken several shots, so it took her a moment to drink in his appearance, gathering details in small bursts. Brown jacket. Brown eyes.  _ Huge  _ eyes. Dark hair. God those eyes. They were looking right into her.

 

“You don’t look like you belong here.” He said softly and god, what a pretentious thing it was to say. She stiffened, placing a hand on the wall to steady herself.

 

“And what does that mean?”

 

“Oh I don’t mean here as in the party.” He spoke quickly, as if just hearing himself. “That just came out like, so wrong. I always just say what I’m thinking sorry.”

 

“What did you mean?” He leaned in closer and she unintentionally mirrored him.

 

“I just meant like, this place. With these people.  You seem like you  _ know. _ And people like us, people who just  _ know,  _ shouldn't be here.”

 

_ He is so drunk. _ She thought, but couldn't help but smile. He might’ve been an intoxicated rambling idiot, but she felt like he saw her. In the same way she was seeing him.

 

“That doesn’t make much sense.” She was smiling as she said it, and he held out his hand.

 

“I’m Alexander Hamilton. You’ll remember my name.”  _ Asshole _ . She laughed.

 

“Angelica Schuyler.”

 

“I’ll definitely remember yours.” He didn’t. “This is my first year in America, my first month in, and I have already had more to drink tonight than I have in my entire life until this point.” He was speaking so quickly it was hard to keep up, but amusing nonetheless.

 

“Oh? Where are you from?”

 

“Dominican Republic.” He slapped his chest proudly. “ _ Y estoy con fluidez en tres idiomas. _ ”

 

“Am I supposed to find the Spanish sexy?” Angelica teased, and his expression was of exaggerated hurt.

 

“Spanish  _ is  _ sexy. But I know French as well if that’ll make you more likely to kiss me.” It was so blunt, so thoughtless, the way he blinked at her. His eyes so raw that it felt like an invasion of privacy to meet his stare.

 

“C’mere.” She tugged at his shirt collar, intending to give him a little peck, but neither were sober enough for such a maneuver.

 

Instead he crashed into her from leaning forward too eagerly, both losing their balance and tumbling to the floor. He had fallen on top of her, but both of them were laughing much to hard for it to be romantic in any way. He buried his face in her shoulder, clearly embarrassed, and she only laughed harder, helping him shakily to his feet.

 

“I hope I don’t remember that.” His face was red, grinning sheepishly. “Almost getting to kiss a pretty girl and then knocking her over.”

 

“If this were human bowling, you’d be winning.” She shoved at him playfully and he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Here.” She pried a hand away and kissed his cheek, her purple lipstick leaving a mark that she decided not to tell him about. “Have a good night Alex.”

 

“You too Angelica. I’ll try not to nearly kill anyone else.” He winked and then disappeared back into the crowd. She just assumed she’d never see him again.

 

_ If only that was the last time I had to see that idiot. _

 

When he came sauntering through the door at her club a couple days later, she wrongly assumed he’d be just as dorky and bashful.Instead, he immediately demanded to know if such a club had adequate bisexual representation, and whether or not it was trans inclusive. 

 

Angelica was grateful that they fought for all the same things, he wasn’t someone she would want as an enemy. 

 

He wasn’t someone she should be wanting period.  _ He’s a human storm cloud and I don’t want to clean up after him. Or do damage control anytime he speaks. _

 

He was fun to talk to and get drunk with, she decided, but it could never be anything more.

Even if she was just a little bit in love with him.

 

“Angie!” It was unfortunate that Eliza and her were not roommates, Angelica being a year above her, but her sister lived right down the hall and was constantly in Angelica’s room. Even more than the girl who actually lived there with her.

 

“In here honey. Want some wine?” Angelica held out her glass and Eliza wrinkled her nose cutely in disgust.

 

Angelica had been little bit afraid for this sweet sister of hers the first year Eliza had come to college. She was benevolent and endearing, but perhaps almost to a fault. They had lived a somewhat sheltered life, under the wealthy wings of their parents, and Angelica hated to imagine the world eating up Eliza’s innocence. She was good, but would she be taken advantage of?

 

“No thanks, I just wanted your opinion on this.” She twirled around in a light floral dress, hem barely stopping above her ankles. “I was thinking of wearing it to the little party for your club.” 

 

“You’ll turn the heads of boys and girls alike.” Angelica smiled at her, sipping from her glass.

 

Eliza had proven to be more capable than Angie had ever imagined, holding her head high and never swaying from who she was. The charming girl was just as kind and trusting as ever, but what Angelica had always taken as naivety in her gaze was instead something to be respected. Maybe Angelica was a little buzzed, but she drew comparison between her sister and a unicorn. Both beautiful and fundamentally pure, but only a monster would hurt them. 

 

_ Don’t let Voldemort drink your sister’s blood. _ Angelica giggled at herself.

 

Unbeknownst to either, the true guardian of Eliza’s well being was the whispers of Angelica’s wrath. The eldest Schuyler sister was both desired and feared by essentially the entire student body. And it was common knowledge that if a single finger were ever to be laid on her little sister, all of Hell would descend upon the fool who made that mistake.

 

“Not every boy. I’m sure Thomas will have eyes for only you.”

 

“Dear god,” Angelica rolled her eyes. “I doubt he’d ever show up. The only events he graces with his presence are his own.”

 

“I don’t know.” Eliza said in a singsong voice, her grin teasing. “Peggy said that Jemmy said that Thomas asked him to carpool.”

 

“If he really will be there,” She rubbed the space between her eyebrows. “I’m going to need to get very drunk.”

 

 _Maybe if you get drunk enough, you can finally kiss Alex._ _Chalk it up to the vodka._

 

Angelica chugged the rest of her glass to drown out her traitorous thoughts.

 

* * *

 

 

Lafayette was not a man used to being told no. In fact, the word was almost foreign to him. In almost every aspect of his life, the people around him strived to please him. And he could be incredibly persuasive. He never failed a class, half of that success being charm alone. And he never set his eyes upon an object of his desire that he could not have.

 

Maye he loved a challenge, maybe that was why he now felt this way. Or perhaps Lafayette had simply been born without an understanding of boundaries, in both French and American culture.

 

Alexander and him were both Political Science majors, which involved a lot of government classes and history lectures. And a certain professor (who  _ totally  _ favored Alex) taught a majority of these classes, and they had him for a class at least once a year.

 

“Professor Washington?” Laf hovered over his desk, feeling weak in the knees at the smell of the older man’s musky cologne.

 

“Yes Mr. Motier?” The man looked up, everything about his posture screaming exhaustion. Laf wanted to caress his face until the tiredness in his eyes faded away, the young man gulping at the sight of them. “Something I can help you with?”

 

_ Yes, you can help me by telling me exactly how many mechanical pencils I have to seductively suck the erasers off of during your lecture before you understand how badly I want you to rip my clothes off. _

 

“ _ Oui monsieur _ ,” Lafayette was an expert at maintaining a poker face, his demure smile giving away nothing. “I know you are a very busy man, and your office hours conflict with my current schedule. So I was wondering if I could plan a meeting with you? To go over my work these past semesters, discuss any upcoming projects.” Washington furrowed his brow, looking painfully adorable.

 

“Gilbert, you’ve always been an adept student. I don’t see why you need-”

 

“You see,” Laf interrupted him to lean closer, acting unaware of the way the professor’s slightly parted lips were mere inches from his own. “Over the summer I went back to France. And I fear such time away has meddled with my ability to write in English.”

 

It sounded lame even to Lafayette, a weak excuse at best.  _ Idiot, he knows it’s a pathetic attempt to get him alone. You’re transparent. _

 

Lafayette had been struck by lust in the past, to the point where he couldn’t even think straight from desire. For him, it had always been a simple game. Almost like a math equation. You line everything up right, play the part, and you get the outcome you want. Alexander was just as promiscuous as he, but lacked the suave. Alex was a stormcloud, enthralling people in his wake and sucking them into the void. But Lafayette was a cool body of water, lying still and full of promise. He was naturally charming, naturally beautiful. You could blame his French upbringing, you could blame his free spirit. But however you sliced it, Lafayette had game. When he was horny, he was soon satisfied.

 

But this, this thing about Washington, was more than just longing. It was like a kindergarden crush, he couldn’t get the man out of his head. When he looked at him he wasn’t fantasizing about entwined limbs and laboured breaths, he daydreamed about things like making pancakes together and watching the stars. Frankly, it was embarrassing.

 

_ Other than sleeping with men, my little domestic dreams about my professor is the gayest thing about me. I need to fuck him and get it over with. _

 

“Well,” Washington ran a hand over his head, looking up at Laf candidly. “Are you free next Tuesday around five? I’ll already be here, and I might be able to spare an hour or two.”

 

“Yes professor,  _ oui. Merci _ , thank you.” Laf reached out to shake his hand, probably squeezing much too tight. But this little victory tasted too sweet to attempt to smoulder.  _ One step closer.  _ “I won’t waste your time.”

 

“Always a pleasure Gilbert.” Washington looked amused, shaking his head almost fondly. “I’ll see you Tuesday.”

 

“Tuesday.” Laf flashed him a signature smile, attempting to fill his eyes with something simultaneously sultry and endearing. “And please  _ monsieur _ , call me Lafayette. Everyone does.”

 

“Why do they call you that?”

 

“Why do they call you General Washington?” Laf retorted cheekily, and the man laughed.

 

“A story for another time. Tuesday perhaps.”

 

“Tuesday.” He repeated, smiling all the way back to his dorm.

 

* * *

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

Alex’s eyes flickered up from his screen for a heartbeat before going back to furiously typing, but then his fingers slowly stilled and his head lifted completely when he realized who was standing in front of him.

 

“John,” he smiled, sending bolts of lightning straight to John’s heart. Enough electricity to power a small village. “What are you doing up so late?”

 

“Checking on you. Because we both know you should be asleep.”

 

“Ah.” Alexander blinked sleepily, shutting his laptop closed (John would be damned if he had ever seen Alex stop mid-project for anyone else). “My babysitter is here to tell me it’s bedtime.”

 

“They couldn’t pay me  _ enough  _ to babysit you.” John crawled into bed beside him, replacing the laptop in his friend’s lap with a plastic bag. “I brought Chinese food. Because if I know you it’s been an eternity since your last meal.”

 

“My hero.” Alex deftly grabbed for the chow mein as usual, clumsily holding his chopsticks and piling noodles into his mouth. “And I’ll have you know that I was actually a great child. I’d be a fucking delight to babysit.” He spoke around a mouth of food and John snorted in disbelief.

 

“You were probably the squirmy kid who never shut up. So, essentially the same as now.” Alex smacked him and John laughed, enjoying his dumplings as Alex nuzzled up against his side.

 

Sometimes John wanted to tell him. In moments like these, where it was just the two of them side by side, a perfect little picture. With Alex it was easy, god it was so fucking easy. They knew each other like clockwork. John watched over Alexander, who could get so caught up in his mind that he forgot to take care of himself. And Alex protected John, from the way he collapsed in on himself and let voices influence him. They could sit for hours and talk about nothing and everything, they could sit in an empty dorm room at two in the morning eating chinese food and feel more at home than some people felt in a lifetime.  _ We were made for each other. _

 

But it was too easy to ruin. It was so simple in the most complex way imaginable, and John would never risk that. It was a tired cliche but it was his reality; John was in love with his best friend. But he had no idea what dating Alexander would be like. It could end it flames, it could tear him apart. But  _ this, _ cuddling up under the glow of Christmas lights Laf kept up year round, this John knew how to navigate. He knew exactly what having Alex as a best friend was like, and it wasn’t worth gambling.

 

“Where’s Laf for the night?” John rested his chin on the top of Alex’s head, eyeing the empty bed across the room. “He doesn’t usually have dates on a Thursday.”

 

“I think he’s with Herc actually. Apparently his roommate is gone for the next few days so they wanted an Orange is the New Black marathon.” John gasped in mock offense.

 

“And we weren’t invited?”

 

“To be fair, we do stuff without them all the time.” Alex sat up to give him a cheeky grin, breath ghosting across John’s cheek. “And just last week you claimed to hate that show.”

 

“I’d still like an invite.” John grumbled, mushing around his box of rice. Looking anywhere but Alex.

 

“Oh hey,” Alex cleared away the trash, capable of eating as rapidly as he did everything else. “Don’t forget the Q&A bonfire is Saturday.”

 

“I’m in the club too dumbass.” Alex smacked him.

 

“I know that Laurens, I just especially need you there this time. On some whim of goodwill I invited Jefferson.” John nearly choked, caught between a gasp and a laugh at his friend’s childlike expression. “I know I know. What was I thinking?”

 

“I think it’s sweet.” John smirked. “Maybe you guys will get drunk and finally resolve the sexual tension that so clearly fuels your rivalry.” Alex made a gagging sound that caused both boys to break out into hysterics. 

 

“Ah but my dear John,” Alex wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes, slinging an arm affectionately around his shoulders. “It’s  _ you _ I have to worry about getting drunk and hooking up with. What with our undeniable chemistry.” John gave out a weak little laugh, aware of his face heating up.

 

Whenever Alex made jokes like that, John struggled to breathe. He knew it was friendly teasing, he knew how naturally flirtatious his Alexander was. But he couldn’t help the way his pulse sped up and how he suddenly felt hyper aware of how close the other boy was to him.  _ Damn body, you’re giving me away. _

 

“If anybody's likely to get drunk and hook up with anyone in the fantastic four it's Lafayette. I'm pretty sure we’re on his bucket list.”

 

“Who decided on the name the fantastic four?” Alex’s eyes were closed, grumbling as his face lay buried in John’s side. “I wanted to be the quatre queer.”

 

“Only half of us speak French fluently and besides, we don't know Herc’s sexuality. Well, you don't.” Alex cracked an eye open, giving him an evil look.

 

“Are you fucking telling me that you and Laf know but I don't?” John laughed, running his hands over Alex’s head gently, soothingly, in an attempt to relax him enough to sleep.

 

“I'm just harassing you. That boy is like a vault.”

 

“I bet him and Laf hooked up.” Alex’s eyes were shut once more, sighing adorably as he wrapped his arms around John. “It's not like Lafayette to suddenly lose sexual interest.”

 

“Well I don't know, they're such close friends now. Wouldn't something like that just ruin it?”

 

“I guess it depends on the people.” John couldn't help but stare at Alex when he had his eyes closed. He could admire the other’s features unabashedly, taking his time to soak him in without fear of being caught.  _ You are being real fucking creepy.  _ It was just fascinating to see something so fast paced at rest.

 

It was funny, because in his little hometown in Southern Carolina, John had always been considered hot headed. His rawness and known temper were just traits he accepted, until he met Alex.

 

It was true, that once John got heated up he could get reckless. He presented himself calmly, almost shyly, but once his cause was in question he could transform into a wildfire. 

 

Alex, on the other hand, didn't need to be riled up. He was already there. He didn't even bother with a cool facade like John, he was just constantly ready to fight. Constantly ready to battle, with words or fists. It was exhilarating to watch but also made John’s heart break a little. The poor kid had spent so long fighting for every word, every breath, that he didn't know when he had already won.

 

“So you think it's possibly for people to hook up and be friends?” John tried to sound casual, the voice in his head constantly changing  _ he knows he knows he knows _ . But Alex only yawned.

 

“Sure. I guess as long as nobody catches feelings.”

 

John was silent for a while, feeling the boy breathing against him, the way his small body shook with every breath. Like even sleep was a fight for him. 

 

He couldn't stop his mind from wandering to whether or not it would be worth it, just one night with Alex. It wouldn't ruin their friendship, because there would be no strings attached. And at least that way he’d get a taste, a glimpse. 

 

_ That's pathetic,  _ he scolded himself.  _ You know you would just want more. You can't do things casually, you just aren't built that way. Besides, he said it's only acceptable if nobody catches feelings. Hate to point out the obvious, but it's a little late to try to avoid that.  _

 

Then there was another voice, a quieter one, speaking at the same time as the other but John heard it just as clearly.  _ He'd never want that anyway. You have to be attracted to someone to want to sleep with them. He sees you as a friend and only that, or he would've done something by now. He's out of your league. _

 

_ “What if we hooked up?”  _ He wanted to ask, maybe to just finally get it over with. But did he even want to know the answer?

 

“Hey Alex?” John said softly, voice thick.

 

But after several seconds of silence (an immediate alarm), he glanced down to find his friend fast asleep curled up beside him. John almost hated himself for feeling relieved. Just another night he had managed to get through without confessing his love.

 

He leaned forward slightly to press a chaste kiss to Alex’s forehead, the boy responding with a sleepy hum, before resting his cheek where his lips had been and closing his eyes.

 

_ At least I know what it's like to wake up next to him. To wake up in his arms. _

 

Nestled up against Alex, John felt safe. He felt warm. He felt like home.

 

So why was he on the verge of tears?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mon cher imbécile-my dear idiot  
> Vous serez la mort de moi-you will be the death of me  
> Merveilleux-marvelous  
> Tu es horrible-You are terrible  
> amoureux-lovebirds
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm always a slut for group chat conversations

french toast: guys gUYS whats the dress code for the bonfire

french toast: hamilton just said “casual” hahaha

french toast: like has he not seen my wardrobe

slice of ham: I'm right here you ass

zero to hero: *ass with a great ass

french toast: ;) ;) ;) ;)

zero to hero: ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

slice of ham: YOU GUYS ARE JUST FUCKING WITH ME NOW

french toast: ;) ;) ;)

john tortoise: laf I think it's just casual as in “lounging around the house” not  “I'm vacationing in italy” casual

french toast: what if the house I'm lounging in is my summer italy house

 

slice of ham changed the name of the group chat to FUCK THE FRENCH

 

french toast: many would love too Alex

zero to hero: ;) ;) ;) ;)

slice of ham: I'm literally gagging

john tortoise: ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

slice of ham: JHON NOT YOU TOO

slice of ham: laf you might as well just show up naked at this point for all I care

french toast: done

zero to hero: I'm coming over we’re picking out ur outfit

french toast: @ Alex did u hear that daddy's coming over

zero to hero: let me stop you right there

slice of ham: JESUS LAF

john tortoise: FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

 

french toast changed the name of the group chat to: don't kinkshame me

 

john tortoise: what if my kink is kinkshaming you

slice of ham: so by asking us not to shame you, you are in fact shaming my boy john

zero to hero: #inception

john tortoise: #kinkception

slice of ham: #kinkgate2016

french toast: I hate you guys

zero to hero: that's neat but can you unlock the door I'm outside

french toast: omw daddy❤ uwu

slice of ham: john why don't you talk to me like that

john tortoise: you really expect anyone to call you daddy when you're about a foot off the ground and weigh ten pounds soaking wet

zero to hero: OH SHIT

zero to hero: FUCKING DRAG HIM

zero to hero: laf is just cackling

 

slice of ham changed the group name to: personally victimized by jonathan laurens

 

john tortoise: you realize jonathan is not my full name

french toast: ??????

zero to hero: what's john short for then?? Johnbert? Johnilton?

slice of ham: johnilton sounds like it's our couple name

zero to hero: nah that's lams

john tortoise: ?????

slice of ham: ???¿????¿

zero to hero: like laurens and ham

french toast: note how alex has included upside down questions marks, to remind us he is bilingual

slice of ham: trilingual

french toast: *cough* pretentious

slice of ham: arent you picking an outfit or something

zero to hero: he's just chillin in his underwear while daddy over here goes through his entire wardrobe

french toast: so good to me<3

john tortoise: why do you guys have our couple name picked out

french toast: mon du he's still on that

slice of ham: I'm still not talking to you for calling me short

slice of ham: I just wanted to make sure you're aware of that so my ignoring is more potent

zero to hero: lovers quarrel

french toast: my outfit is not ready put that phone down

french toast: guys herc threw a shoe at me

french toast: yes daddy punish me

john tortoise: somebody lock him in a church

john tortoise: and alex oh golly gee whatever will I do now that you've finally shut up for more than five minutes(:

slice of ham: :O

slice of ham: take it back

french toast: wait are we all carpooling

french toast: because I intend to bring home a lil somethin somethin

slice of ham: gross but same

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: alexander,don't say things like that in front of John

slice of ham: I joke like that all the time Laf, relax.

 

* * *

 

 

john tortoise: so should we all find our own rides or

slice of ham: no ur riding with me get in the car

john tortoise: the thing isn't for like three hours and I thought you were ignoring me

slice of ham: INTO THE CAR JOHN

zero to hero: you better get in the car john

french toast: yeah it sounds like he's not fucking around

john tortoise: WHAT CAR I'M IN MY DORM ROOM

slice of ham: THAT'S IT I'M COMING OVER

john tortoise: FINE BRING FOOD

slice of ham: FINE

john tortoise: FINE

french toast: aw I love a happy ending

zero to hero: how come I don't get food

zero to hero: if anyone makes a dick joke I swear to god

french toast: I was literally midway through typing out a baguette joke

french toast: those two are long gone aren't they

french toast: why are we still on this group chat

zero to hero: just come into the bathroom already I know what you're wearing

 

* * *

 

 

“I explicitly said I was trying to get laid, and once again we all end up in the same car together.”

 

Laf pouted from his usual position in the passenger seat and the others rolled their eyes in almost perfect unison.

 

“You don't have a car,” Herc scolded. “Were you really going to bring someone back to _my_ car?”

 

“Well…”

 

“This isn't some hookup event.” John’s response was uncharacteristically grouchy, his tone short and sharp. “Its supposed to be a community, not a hunting ground.”

 

“Then Alex shouldn't have invited Jefferson.” Laf chuckled and Herc fixed him with an incredulous stare.

 

“You did _what_?”

 

“I felt bad for him,” Alex figeted, smiling at his friend nervously. “He's a sad, sad man.”

 

“I do not see why you are hating him so.” Laf had his feet propped up on the dashboard. “He is made of the same things as you, only he is more charming.”

 

“I'm charming.” Alex scoffed and John couldn't repress a snort. “What? I _am_ charming.”

 

“Of course honey.” Herc replied with a smirk and Alex leaned forward to smack him. “Hey! No harassing the driver!”

 

“He's just more, how you say, _suave._ ”

 

“You know exactly how to say it.” Alex grumbled under his breath.

 

“He won’t steal any potential lovers from either of you.” John’s sour tone was replaced by that of reluctant amusement. “He wants Angelica.”

 

“Angelica Schuyler could murder him with a single look.”

 

“Alex you sound salty.” Herc’s grin was audible. “Jealous that Angie is more terrifying than you?” Alex gasped.

 

“You know,” Laf mumbled thoughtfully. “I bet I could get Thomas to sleep with me.”

 

“I _am_ terrifying too! John tell Herc I am scary!”

 

“It's cute you're calling on me to defend your honor.” John said dryly. “But I'm with Herc. Have you even _seen_ Angelica when she's angry?”

 

“Are we all just gonna ignore the fact that Laf is considering hooking up with Jefferson?”

 

“Do not be jealous.” Laf stuck his tongue out at Herc, who just sighed.

 

“When I'm angry, I could just...just _kill_ someone.” Alex was attempting to provide a fear inspiring demonstration with his hands, but he only succeeded in making John’s heart thump fondly.

 

“You're like a chihuahua. They get pretty mad but if needed, you could kick one across the room.” Herc said.

 

“True they are little balls of hate.” John smirked. “Twenty percent trembling, eighty percent rage.”

 

“I'm that plus like, forty percent unstoppable adrenaline.” Alex was sitting with his feet tucked under him like he always did when he got riled up. “And maybe like ten percent coffee.”

 

“That's one hundred and fifty percent.” Laf snickered. “I believe it, you have to be some kind of special human to last on as little sleep as you.”

 

“Sleep is boring. It's time lost I can never get back.” He was shaking his head, looking at John for agreement. “The average person sleeps a _third_ of their life away. Not I.”

 

“Oh no,” Laf said. “You just spend a third of your life having sex.”

 

“Let's do the math.” Herc was grinning. He jumped on any chance to make fun of Alex. “If Alex became sexually active when he was, let's say, seventeen-”

 

“False I-”

 

“And Laf how many days a week on average would you say he brings someone home?”

“Maybe two, on a good week. Usually one or less.” The frenchman mused, suppressing a chuckle. “Not accounting for parties.”

 

“Right. And how long does this event usually last for?”

 

“Oh for the love of-”

 

“Maybe an hour. Hour and a half.”

 

“So Alexander.” Herc furrowed his brow in mock concentration. “There's usually 36 weeks in a school year. And you've been in college two years now, but let's safely assume your senior year of high school was just as fun. If we take your average of two times a week…” His concentration was sincere now, mumbling under his breath. “Thats 1,080 hours you've spent having sex.”

 

“That's more hours,” Laf was in hysterics, laughing hard enough to shake the car. “Than he's probably slept in all three years!”

 

“Oh shut up.” Alex scolded, but it was hard not to laugh along with Laf.

 

He dared to glance over at John, who he noticed had been silent throughout Herc’s whole equation. The curly haired boy was staring down at his shoes, face a neutral mask. He had his hair down and tumbling over his shoulders. _The way you like it._

 

“We’re here.” Herc said through his laughter, pulling into a parking spot just along where the sand began.

“Hey,” Alex nudged John as they piled out, grabbing chairs and drinks from the trunk. “Once the sun sets, you. Me. Skinny dipping.” It had the desired effect, John cracking a smile.

 

“Public nudity? No thanks. I am down for a night swim though.”

 

“Just us.” Alex hooked their arms together, falling back a little from Laf (already shedding clothing) and Herc.

 

“Okay.” He gave Alex a soft look, one that made the shorter boy smile.

 

“Don't get too drunk on me now Laurens. Or I might have to take advantage of you.” John snorted.

 

“You could take advantage of me sober.” He replied dryly, then stumbled as if just realizing what he said. Alex spoke fast so his friend wouldn't get shy and embarrassed like he sometimes did. He hated to make him uncomfortable.

 

“Well then, I might take your word for it.” He winked. “Add another hour to the stats Herc is evidently keeping on me.”

 

“He's like a little spy.” John said with a smirk. “Knows everything about our love lives but is so ambiguous.”

 

“We should have somebody seduce him to discover the truth. Maybe Laf.”

 

“Ah but how do we know Laf hasn't already?” John hummed the X- Files theme music and Alex laughed, switching from John’s arm to his hand to run through the sand, dragging his friend behind him.

 

“C’mon!”

 

The bonfire pit was already mildly crowded, a few people Alex didn't even recognize among the mix, but most were out at the water. Angelica was lounging in a beach chair, bikini a soft blend of pink and orange, with her sunglasses on. He couldn't tell if she was relaxing or observing.

 

“Did you bring alcohol?” She asked without moving, Alex throwing his towel down and tugging off his shirt.

 

“Lafayette did. Only fair, considering how much he drinks.”

 

“Guess your friends are good for something.” She wasn't smiling but he recognized that lighthearted tone. “Hello John.”

 

“Hey Ang.” He was bouncing from foot to foot, gazing eagerly at the distant waves. “Alex can we go to the water?”

 

Alex laughed and nodded, grabbing the boy’s hand once again and racing down to the shore. Laf and Herc were already little figures in the waves, surrounded by several other club members.

“It’s cold!” John shrieked adorably when his toes touched the water and Alex grabbed him from behind, half dragging him towards the waves.

 

“Once you just dive in it’ll be fine.” Both were laughing, John struggling against him.

 

“You’re too tiny to be this strong.” He protested, and Alex splashed him, the duo now in up to their ankles.

 

“ _Arrêtez les yeux putain et obtenir dans l'eau_ !” Laf climbed out of the water towards them, looking like somebody’s fantasy. He stood up and water droplets trickled down his body as he flipped his hair free of moisture, wearing nothing but a speedo. “Like what you see?”

 

“Alex _did_ say to just show up naked.”

 

“This isn’t Baywatch,” Alex teased. “Nobody’s paying money to watch you run in slow motion.”

 

“They’ll be paying to see _me._ ” An obnoxious voice chimed in from behind Alex, who instantly cringed at the sound.

 

Thomas Jefferson, tacky as usual, was wearing bright orange swim trunks and smug grin. He looked handsome, which was obnoxious, but even Alex could appreciate his enemy aesthetically.

 

“Always a pleasure Thomas.” John replied dryly and Laf skipped out of the water to hug his friend, then proceeded to talk in rapid fire French.

 

“Laf could probably befriend the fucking devil.” Alex grumbled as they headed deeper into the sea, leaving the two back on the shore.

 

“At least if Jefferson is here so’s Jemmy.” John was significantly taller, still able to stand while Alex was a floating head, swimming gracelessly over the waves as they came.

 

“If James even bothers to swim. _Is this water sanitary?”_ Alex mimicked, earning a smack from his friend.

 

“Oh shut up. I’m surprised your immune system isn't as awful as his, given that you never sleep.”

 

“I sleep when you’re around.” Alex said sincerely, watching the red creep up John’s neck.

 

“Well I-”

 

“Look out for that wave!” Laf shouted, suddenly jumping on Alex’s back as a giant wave swept them halfway back to the shore. “Nice work Alex. With our combined height, my hair did not get wet at all.”

 

“You fucker.” Alex laughed, coughing and rubbing his eyes. “I was completely submerged.”

 

“I’m sure there’s an innuendo in that somewhere.” Herc had swam over to join them, giving Thomas a cordial nod.

 

“You look cute with your hair wet.” Laf rubbed the top of Alex’s head before resting his elbow on it. “Doesn’t he John?”

 

“Guys!” Angelica was standing on the shoreline, a beautiful figure in the distance. Like a little glass figurine. “Come on back, I wanna start the fire!”

 

“You wanna what?” Thomas cupped his ear, pretending to be unable to hear her.

 

“Start the fire!”

 

“ _What?”_ He stepped closer, smirking.

 

“ _Just fucking come back to the shore Thomas.”_ She crossed her arms and he stepped out of the water towards her, clearly trying to mimic the effect which Laf had mastered so naturally earlier.

 

“Anything for you.” He crooned, the others close behind, and he only response was to roll her eyes.

 

Herc offered Laf a piggyback ride back, John following close behind, and Angie fell into step beside Alex.

 

“You look lovely.” He offered, and she eyed him suspiciously behind her glasses. “No really, that's a nice swimsuit.”

 

“Thanks.” She let out a breath and smiled at him. “Sorry I'm just a little tense. This is a huge turnout, I don't want anything to go wrong.”

 

“Everyone's having fun.” He nudged her. “It's gonna be great Ang. Nobody here gets out to the beach that often, this was a great idea.”

 

“I know.” She smirked. “But thanks Alexander. My sister’s here you know.”

 

“Peggy?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought she hated the sand.”

 

“No, the one you haven't met yet. Eliza.” There was something unfamiliar in her tone, something soft and guarded that told him to tread carefully. He ignored it.

 

“Oh? Is she as pretty as her sisters?” Angelica smacked him hard across the arm and he cackled.

 

“You aren't touching her you slime.” Her words were sharp but she was smiling. He knew her well enough to know it was fondness coloring her tone. “Just be nice to her. I know she's nervous to meet people.”

 

“I'll treat her like a queen, since she is the sister of my queen.” He said flirtatiously, puckering his lips at her, and she shoved his face away.

 

“Grow up.” Angelica said, and Alex thought he was imagining it but she almost sounded flustered.

 

“Alex.” Laf was gazing at him helplessly, standing with his feet in the bonfire pit over chunks of wood doused in lighter fluid. “It will not light. I am helpless.”

 

“I thought Thomas was a boy scout or something.” Alex rolled his eyes, shoving Laf away to find kindling, and Thomas glanced up from his phone.

 

“False. I was a _camp counselor_ at a rehabilitation retreat for orphans.”

 

“I don't think orphans is the politically correct term.” John spoke for Alex, probably recognizing the way Thomas made his teeth clench.

 

“ _Dieu merci_ , Alex started the fire.” Laf pointed at the flames to divert from the ones growing between Jefferson and Alex. The hatred was palpable sometimes.

 

“Thank God somebody is useful.” Angie smirked and Thomas went rigid. _Probably dying inside that he missed the opportunity to impress his lady love._ “Laf, where’s the Malibu?”

 

Alex climbed around the pit towards the back of the small crowd of people, hunting through bags for marshmallows. He tripped over a  cooler and landed in the sand, hands sprawled out in front of him, face first into a pair of sandals. The sandals were attached to feet, attached to legs, attached to a pretty dress, attached to a girl lying down on a towel and smiling at him with shy amusement.

 

_Oh._

 

“You alright there? Drunk already?” He sat up quickly, embarrassed, and smiled at the girl with the twinkling eyes.

 

“Unfortunately, I am just as clumsy when sober.” He held out his hand. “Alexander.”   _Alexander Hamilton, you won’t forget my name._ His usual line died in his throat. She was gorgeous but like a snowglobe, to be admired not tarnished.

 

“Eliza.” Her skin was soft. He presumptuously wondered if this was how people felt when they first met him. Tongue heavy and useless in his mouth. It took a moment for the name to register.

 

“Angelica’s sister?”

 

“The very same.” She sat up, folding her legs under her and clasping her hands together cutely. “So you must be the little fireball she always talks about.”

 

“Angelica talks about me?” He arched an eyebrow. “ That sounds like blackmail.” Eliza giggled and _dear god._ _He_ forgot his name.

 

“She just rants. Don’t be too flattered.”

 

“Either way, I’m being talked about and not Thomas.” He winked and she made a face. “Are you telling me she talks about _Thomas_? In the same breath she talks about _me_?”

 

“When she talks about him it’s a lot worse.” She patted his arm. “With you, she’s usually talking about meetings in general.”

 

“Why haven’t I seen you at any meetings?” He hoped he wasn’t sounding as helpless as he felt, and she just smiled graciously at him.

 

“I’m in a pretty time consuming club already, or I would.”

 

“What club?”

 

“Gardening.” She said bashfully, and he made a noise of approval. “It’s pretty amazing. We maintain the school garden and greenhouse. Have you ever been?”

 

“Holy shit yeah, the garden is _beautiful._ I had no idea students did that. That was you?” She was blushing a pretty shade of pink, like a flower or something equally precious.

 

“Not just me, there’s five of us. But yeah. We take it pretty seriously.”

 

“Mother Earth must be proud.” He said, and felt immediately lame for it, but she giggled. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

“Sure but, no alcohol. I’m driving.”

 

“Some soda coming right up.” He leapt to his feet and resolved not to drink himself.

 

He would want to remember talking to this girl come morning.

 

* * *

 

 

“Angelica.” She sighed at the sound, a tall figure silhouetted by the fire behind him blocking her vision.

 

“What do you want Thomas?”

 

By now the sun had long sank down into the ocean, the fire raging high, and everyone was pretty drunk and/or stoned. Angelica felt pleased with herself, watching people roast marshmallows and sing loud and off-key. But she hadn’t had enough vodka in her system to deal with Thomas. He sank down into the chair next to her.

 

“I was just gonna ask if you’re having a good time. The host usually forgets to have fun themselves.” She waited for the catch, for him to make some comment about what a gracious host _he_ usually was and how amazing and dapper he could be. He instead just held out a cup. “A drink?”

 

“Are you going to drug me?” She asked wryly, and his response was to lift it to his own lips and take a sip.

 

“Trust me now?”

 

“Not a lick.” She replied and took the cup from his hands, taking a long swig. “That’s nice. Fruity.”

 

“Concocted it myself.”

 

“The connoisseur of mixed drinks.” He smirked.

 

“I am the connoisseur of many things, so I’ll leave that position open to someone more talented. Maybe Lafayette. _He_ can make a drink that’ll get you shitfaced in minutes.”

 

“Wow,” she turned to face him. “I’m impressed that you passed up any opportunity to brag about yourself.”

 

“I’m full of surprises.” He said evenly, and she sighed.

 

“I don’t get it Thomas. If you like me so goddamn much why have you never asked me out? You just make lazy innuendos towards me.”

 

“Well, as fantastic as we were in bed together,” His signature cocky grin was plastered into place. “I know you wouldn’t date me.”

 

“Oh?” Maybe she’d had a little too much to drink, challenging him like this. Pushing it when she knew how he felt about her. They’d always been vaguely friends, until both got very inebriated at a party last spring and hooked up. Ever since, he’d been following her around like a lost puppy. But she was no Alexander, eager to maintain Thomas’ infatuation. Although maybe she was motivated a little by the way that someone in question had been lost in the crowd all night. Probably somewhere with John.

 

“I know you think you’re out of my league. And rightly so.” He added quickly. “I know I’m kindof an ass. But, to be honest, so are you.” She opened her mouth to protest but he kept going. “I don’t mean that you’re mean or anything. But we’re both snarky, we’re both ambitious, and we’re both a little bit cunning. We’re cut from the same cloth, I think that’s why you won’t date me.”

 

“So are you and Alex.” She said, her head swimming. How did she end up in a conversation with Thomas Jefferson about the two of them being together?

 

“That’s true. So are you and him.” He observed, and she was soaking in his words, only not in the way he intended.

 

 _He’s right, I am a lot like Alex. And I do think I’m too good for him. Why? What’s so wrong with him? We could be unstoppable together._ She was too lost in thought to be paying much attention to Thomas, realizing after a bit that he was still speaking.

 

“-of course. But my point is, you’re like fire.” His eyes were dark and glinting, fixated on her. “And I’m like fire too. And I think, if you gave it a chance and thought about what you really want in someone, we could fit well together.” He got up and left after that, maybe because he had truly exhausted his words or maybe because he wanted a dramatic effect.

 

She finished the drink he had left her, grateful she wasn’t the one driving tonight, and let her eyes scan the faces in the darkness for Alex. _What I really want. What I really want._ Echoes of Thomas’ words ran in circles around her thoughts, consuming them.

 

Across the flames, her gaze met John’s, eyes just as wide and searching as her’s. His stare shifted from her to other shapes in the shadows, and she felt a pang of understanding. He was looking for Alex too. The object of their affections probably off flirting with god knows who.

 

 _Enough bullshit,_ she thought, pitying the curly haired boy whose eyes were searching with desperation. _I love him so I’m gonna have him. Impulse control be damned._

 

* * *

 

 

slice of ham: holy fucking shit what a night

john tortoise: do you want me to come over

french toast: john how are you able to move???? Or breath?????

zero to hero: its a little thing called choosing not to drink our own body weight in jungle juice. 10/10 highly recommend

slice of ham: we are but poor dying queers. have mercy. bring us water.

zero to hero: this is just sad really

john tortoise: omw

zero to hero: JOHN C’MON youll only encourage them

slice of ham: john i love you so much god bless

slice of ham: can you also bring alcohol

french toast: oui it is the best cure

zero to hero: it's like 4 in the fucking morning the original alcohol has not even left ur system

slice of ham: lol “original alcohol”. The original sin

french toast: we are the fall of man

french toast: wait alex you aren't hungover you didn't even drink

slice of ham: i never said i was hungover. I just want alcohol and john

zero to hero: alex didn't drink??? Wtf?

john tortoise: I'm outside open up

french toast: I cannot move my limbs have failed me. I am a shell of a man

slice of ham: I'm coming rn babe

zero to hero: you never call me babe

john tortoise: bring him water and cookies before the sun has risen and youll earn the title

french toast: YOU BROUGHT COOKIES

slice of ham: “I cannot move my limbs have failed me” my ass

slice of ham: this fucker just lept off the bed

zero to hero: you guys have to narrate bc I'm not there

french toast: he didn't even bring alcohol

french toast: just come over

zero to hero: fuck no I'm in my nice warm bed

french toast: I'll make it worth your while ;)

slice of ham: what

john tortoise: what

zero to hero: what

french toast: what

french toast: I'm still really drunk give me a break

french toast: okay live update they're doing that gross cuddle thing

french toast: when I am the one who should be being pampered

french toast: I'm the drunk one, alex didn't even have a beer

zero to hero: yeah wait why haven't we addressed the fact that Alex didn't drink?? He always drinks?

zero to hero: it's like the red robin commercials except all you have to do is say “open bar” and alex is there

french toast: he was talking to a girl

zero to hero: sober??????????

french toast: oui. He looked like a lovestruck idiot.

zero to hero: i need to see this girl cute enough to keep Alex sober

john tortoise: look away from the phone for like a minute and suddenly ya’ll are blowing up the group chat

john tortoise: ah

 

french toast has removed slice of ham from the group chat

 

french toast: john are you okay

french toast: I am seeing your face and I am sad

zero to hero: shit I was just teasing you know how alex is. I'm sure it was nothing.

john tortoise: jesus you guys he's lying right next to me

john tortoise: and I don't know what you mean

 

john tortoise added slice of ham to the group chat

 

slice of ham: who the FUCK kicked me out?!

french toast: it was herc we were discussing his sexuality

slice of ham: I s2g

french toast: john come over here it is unfair that alex gets the cuddles when he is 1) not sick and 2) trash

zero to hero: being hungover isnt sick

slice of ham: I'm not trash wtf

slice of ham: trashy, maybe

zero to hero: just go to sleep guys. Laf if you want cuddles that bad I'm right across the hall

french toast: I am too drunk, id probably seduce you

slice of ham: then we’d get some answers

john tortoise: he's right go to sleep alex. Every time you sit up to check ur phone you elbow me

french toast: I wouldn't elbow you

zero to hero: GOODNIGHT

slice of ham: nighty night

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: another live update, in their sleep they moved so that they are spooning facing each other

zero to hero: was he really talking to a girl

french toast: oui. And i have never seen his face like that.

zero to hero: God. whatll we do if he starts dating someone?

french toast: john likes to pretend nobody knows. So we can't say anything. We just watch.

zero to hero: everything will be okay. It's just one girl.

french toast: oui.

french toast: does your offer for cuddles still stand?

zero to hero: yes. Door is unlocked.

french toast: you know me so well.

 

* * *

 

 

“Angie!” Eliza threw herself onto the bed beside her sister. “Oh Angie I had the best time last night!”

 

Angelica groaned under the covers and took a deep breath. She was trying very hard not to begrudge her darling sister for waking her up, how could Eliza know what a bitch of a hangover she was nursing?

 

“Did you?” She groaned from under her pillow, feeling her little sister cuddle up next to her. _I need water and an entire bottle of Advil._ “I'm thrilled.” She said flatly. Eliza ignored her tone.

 

“Yes it was amazing, I spent the whole night just talking to this boy and we went down by the water once the sun set and we just got along so well and-”

 

“A boy?!” Angelica sat straight up, hair sticking up wildly in different directions. “You were with some gross _boy_ all night?” Eliza rolled her eyes.

 

“I like him. Why can't you just be happy instead of being so bitter towards relationships all the time?” Eliza’s sharpness caught Angie off guard, and she stammered for a moment.

 

“I am _not_ bitter towards relationships.” She crossed her arms. “I'll have you know last night I decided I was gonna ask out this guy I like next time I see him.”

 

“Really?” Eliza’s eyes grew huge, suddenly back to beaming. “Who is it?!”

 

“You...you tell me first. Let’s get back to your story.” Angelica laid down once more, rubbing her eyes heavily.

 

“It's one of your friends from the club.” Angie could practically hear Eliza’s moonstruck gaze. “Alexander. The treasury you told me about.” Angelica’s hands stilled.

_Eliza. He was off flirting with Eliza all night?_

 

She wasn't sure if she wanted to kill that son of a bitch for putting the moves on her sister _when she had explicitly told him not to_ , or if she wanted to curl up into a little ball and hide for the day. This was _Eliza._ If she thought Alexander didn't deserve her, He most certainly did not deserve her sister aka the most pure being in the universe. He would only hurt her, and the happiness of her sister was of the utmost importance. She could end this before it began.

 

_Are you really trying to protect Eliza? Or are you being selfish? You want him for yourself._

 

“I think he likes me, well obviously I can't be certain, it was just one night. But he did ask for my number and ask if I like coffee and oh Angie, he's wonderful.” Eliza’s continuous stream of words were fading into the background, a low buzz behind the way Angelica’s head was swimming. The answer was obvious, she was a woman of logic. And she loved her sister. It was just so unusual for her emotions to take hold of her like this.

 

“What about you?” Eliza shook her, grinning. “Who’s the guy you decided to ask out?” Angelica blinked once. Twice. Floundering for an answer, and said the first name that came into her mind.

 

“Thomas Jefferson.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Well Gilbert,” Professor Washington was wearing little reading glasses, looking over various projects Laf had turned in. The boy had never seen him in glasses before, it was fucking adorable. _Maybe I just have a professor kink. Let's get him in a sweater vest to find out._ “You've always done exceptionally well in group projects. I think your only problem this semester might be that Mr. Hamilton is in a different class, so you'll have to work with someone new.”

 

“I'd rather work alone than with someone other than Alex.” Laf was poised like a gentleman in his chair, legs crossed, paying rapt attention. It was a difficult posture to maintain, considering he was so used to sprawling over any furniture like a cat. Maybe once George got to know him better.

 

“Why? Because he does all the work?” Laf looked up sharply but the professor’s eyes were full of humor, relaxing him.

 

“You cannot blame me _monsieur_. He gets angry when anyone tries to help.”

 

“You poor thing.” Washington teased, and Laf’s heart soared at the way the man was smiling at him. _Maybe this is not hopeless._ “Now Gilbert, let's go over what I can do for you seeing as you're not completely comfortable writing in English. Now-”

 

“Professor Washington.” A tall boy rapt his knuckles on the doorway and marched in. The professor sighed.

 

“Mr. Lee, I am in the middle of a meeting. We can later go over-”

 

The boy interrupted him by slamming his hands down on the desk, the sound jolting Lafayette. He didn't even seem to notice Laf, sitting there, just hovering over Washington menacingly. Laf felt a bitter taste in his mouth, felt his fist clench in an instinct he had long ago tried to smother.

 

“Washington.” The boy snarled. “You can't do this to me. You can't leave my grade last semester an F. I'm on the fucking Dean’s List.”

 

“You can't, in an Intersectionality Studies class, write a paper on white privilege not being real, and expect to pass Charles. It wasn’t even the topic.” Washington was keeping his tone even, barely glancing up at the boy from his papers. The kid made a frustrated sound and slammed his hands down again.

 

“No, I don't accept that. It's not my fault if your difference of opinion prevents you from seeing logic. You can't fail me on a personal bias.”

 

“You did not do any of the homework.” The boy stuck his finger in the professor’s face, who did nothing but stare at him coolly, while Laf wanted to snap the appendage in half.

 

“I can sue, I'll tell them how you failed me because you didn't like my opinion. It's prejudice. It's _discrimination._ ” Laf snorted and the boy finally looked down at him, eyes blazing. “The fuck are you laughing at?”

 

“That'll be all Mr. Lee.” Washington answered before Lafayette had the chance. “I must ask you to leave now.”

 

The talk boy threw them both one final murderous look before stomping out, as inelegantly and quickly as he had arrived.

 

“I'm sorry you had to see that Gilbert I-”

 

“You are going to let him talk to you like that?” Lafayette stood up, pacing the room. “You are a _professor_. I could just kill him.”

 

“Unfortunately Gilbert, incidents like that occur quite frequently. I am many years older than the students, it is not my job to defend myself. It is my job to remain professional even in the face of immaturity.” Laf stopped pacing to face him. The man looked tired, removing his glasses to run the bridge of his nose.

 

“You are not afraid, of his threats?” Laf sank back down into his chair, daring to reach across the desk to touch his arm. “White people will always be taken more seriously than us _monsieur_. He could get you fired.” Washington smiled at him warmly, placing his hand over Laf’s.

 

“I appreciate your concern Gilbert. But I have been at this school a long time. And I have been threatened many times by bratty kids with a superiority complex. It will be fine.” Laf leaned closer.

 

“I could arrange for him to have his ass kicked. Your hands would be clean, I know a guy.”

Washington let out a loud laugh, filling the room and Lafayette.

 

“Thank you Gilbert,” He chuckled. “But that's far from necessary. I don't doubt you could get his ass kicked, or kick it yourself for that matter. You're a capable young man.”

 

“Thank you sir.” Laf swallowed, blatantly gazing at the man. “S-sir do you speak any French?” Washington shook his head.

 

“I am afraid not. And I fear I'm too old to learn now.”

 

“ _J'aimerais rien de plus que vous avez sur ce bureau très . Mais je vais attendre pour vous . Tu seras à moi.”_ Laf said sincerity, voice thick. Washington fixed him with a confused but intrigued stare. As if he wanted to know but recognized Laf’s tone well enough not to ask.

 

“Gilbert what-”

“ _Monsieur_ ,” He smiled sweetly, the picture of innocence. “I already told you, you may call me Lafayette.”

 

“Why?” Laf laughed.

 

“It is not so interesting a story really. It is just where I was born, and less of a mouthful to say than my full name. When I told Alex, the first day we met, that my name was Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, all he caught was Lafayette. And it stuck.”

 

“That is quite the name.” Washington smiled. “A professor’s nightmare.” Laf grinned.

 

“So why do they call you The General, monsieur?”

 

“Well,” Washington looked thoughtful, scrunching his eyebrows together endearingly. “I guess it started my second year of teaching? This comic strip, or maybe it was a book, was popular among the teachers. About a general whose regiment kept falling in love with him.” He looked almost bashful. “And I sort of developed a reputation for uh, students tending to develop crushes on me. So the other teachers, they call me The General.”

 

“Ah.” Lafayette felt like the room was suddenly hotter, had it been so warm before? He kept his face still as a stone. “That happens a lot? Students falling in love with you?”

 

“Oh I wouldn't say they love me. You'd have to know me to love me, and I am a different person outside of the classroom.”

 

“I can see that.” Laf smiled and the look Washington gave him could've cured cancer.

 

“I'm sorry that Mr. Lee took up so much of our time.” Washington shook his head, putting his glasses back on. “Now, where were we?”

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: do you guys know who charles lee is

slice of ham: MOTHER FUXKIN DOUCHE CANOE

john tortoise: that's a yes

zero to hero: rich white boy? Daddy on the school board?

slice of ham: HE'S A ROYAL FUCKING IDIOT

slice of ham: CHARLES LEE BURNED MY CROPS AND KILLED MY WIFE

slice of ham: CHARLES LEE STARTED WWII

slice of ham: but why do you ask

french toast: I had the misfortune of meeting him

john tortoise: if he was bothering you just lock him in a room with alex. He'll leave a changed man

slice of ham: I'd sucker punch the shit out of him

zero to hero: lol that's cute

zero to hero: cute that you think if somebody was bothering laf they'd be answering to anybody other than me

french toast: it's so hot when you talk like that

john tortoise: no but laf was he giving you shit

john tortoise: bc I do not like that kid

john tortoise: he friends with my roommate

slice of ham: ew he's friend with samuel fuckbury

zero to hero: why does that surprise you his roommate is also The Worst

french toast: he was being a douche to washington

french toast: and I just wanted to confirm with you that he was, in fact, an asshole

slice of ham: he was being mean to WASHINGTON

slice of ham: MY LITERAL FATHER

john tortoise: oh dear god

slice of ham: NOT ON MY WATCH

french toast: somebody help take alex down a few notches

zero to hero: I'm on it, hey alex

zero to hero: i have unfinished history homework

john tortoise: this is fun

john tortoise: hey alex I overheard someone say the phrase “white power”

french toast: hey alex I found a cute boy looking for someone to sleep with

slice of ham: am I a meme

john tortoise: #makealexameme2016

french toast: the meme is anytime you do something Alex would do, it's called Pulling An Alex. Example:

french toast: I totally pulled an alex last night and completely forgot to sleep

slice of ham: ....

zero to hero: I pulled an alex and drank approximately one coffee then claimed to be able to read minds

slice of ham: IT WAS ESPRESSO

slice of ham: I pulled a lafayette and made my accent thicker to seduce boys

french toast: *gasp*

french toast: how dare you sir

zero to hero: more like “ow dare you zir”

slice of ham: oh how the tables have turned

john tortoise: just don't roast me guys I'm sensitive

slice of ham: what is there to even roast you on? being exceptionally good looking??

french toast: being an angel???

zero to hero: having perfect hair???

john tortoise: <3

slice of ham: although….there is the turtle thing

french toast: oh yeah that's weird

zero to hero: yeah that's totally weird

john tortoise: FAKE

slice of ham: jk it's cute I'm sure if any of us could draw we'd also doodle little reptiles

zero to hero: just maybe not exclusively

zero to hero: anyway sorry that ur roommate hangs out with garbage

french toast: how come you two don't room together??? We've all known each other since everyone but Herc’s freshman year

zero to hero: if anyone in this foursome is rooming together it's you and I

zero to hero: ideally it would be John/Alex & Laf/me c'mon

slice of ham: don't call us a foursome ugh

 

slice of ham changed the name of the group chat to The Quatre Queer

 

zero to hero changed the name of the group chat to The Three Queermigos and A Mystery

 

slice of ham: I hate you

john tortoise: wait how do you do that

john tortoise: how do you change the name of the chat like that

 

french toast changed the name of the group chat to I Don't Know John Figure It Out

 

john tortoise changed the name of the group chat to Oatmeal

 

slice of ham: what

zero to hero: how anticlimactic

john tortoise: I WAS JUST TESTING TO SEE IF I COULD DO IT

french toast: seriously john I'm embarrassed

 

zero to hero changed the name of the group chat to I ❤ Oatmeal

 

zero to hero: an improvement

slice of ham: I don't like oatmeal

french toast: me either

john tortoise: me either

zero to hero: WELL SHIT NEITHER DO I BUT WHO WANTS TO BE IN A GROUP CHAT CALLED OATMEAL

 

john tortoise changed the name of the group chat to Fuck Oatmeal

 

slice of ham: better

french toast: I agree

zero to hero: Alex is that you outside my art class?

john tortoise: you've been in class this entire time?

slice of ham: g2g guys

 

Alex shoved his phone in his pocket with his free hand, the other clutching a warm coffee cup, and watched the stream of students pouring out the doors. Herc glanced up from his phone to give Alex an odd look, but was too busy rushing off to his fashion design class to stop and ask.

 

Alex rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet, an uncharacteristic nervousness dwelling at the bottom of his chest. After a couple painful moments where he considered just throwing the drink away and heading to the library, he saw her. Eliza was holding a couple small books to her chest, her focused gaze not even registering him.

 

“Eliza.” He fell into step beside her and she blinked in surprise, slowing her steps immediately.

 

“Alexander. Hi. I- I wasn't expecting to see you.”

 

“I know.” He smiled sheepishly. “Herc mentioned he had a class with you and I thought I'd bring you some coffee.” In his head it had seemed romantic, but now he felt vaguely creepy.

 

“Oh. Oh well...thank you.” She was smiling, hopefully a good sign, and she accepted the drink. “This is so thoughtful Alexander. Really, thank you.” His grin stretched from ear to ear.

 

“Ah, it's nothing really.”

 

“I wish that I could stay and chat but my government class…”

 

“Here.” He took her books. “I'll walk you.”

 

They stared at one another shyly for a moment, smiling almost idiotically, before Eliza nodded and started walking again. They fell into easy conversation, Alexander’s nerves quickly fading, and when they reached her class he even dared to kiss her cheek.

 

“I'll uh, I'll see you soon.” She stammered, repressing a smile and a blush. “Goodbye Alex. Text me.”

 

“I will!” He called after her, standing and staring at the door for a good several minutes after class began.

 

* * *

 

 

John sat down next to Laf at their usual table in the food hall, his tray full of stuff he would likely only pick at.

 

“Laf, I need advice.”

 

The frenchman was demolishing a slice of chocolate cake, with several other plates beside him. He hated going back for seconds, so he often just grabbed as much as he could the first time around. It was rare that all four of them were able to sit down together for a meal, sporadic schedules and sporadic sex lives prevented it. Typically on Monday and Wednesday afternoons if was just John and Laf, those days containing the bulk of Herc's classes and Alex considered meals optional. 

 

“ _Qu'Est-ce que c'est_? What do you need?” He asked around a mouthful of food, and John sighed, burying his face in his hands.

 

“You remember that guy I mentioned from the campus art store? Dark hair? Tall?”

 

“Devastatingly gorgeous?”

 

“Yeah,” John sighed like it was physically painful to admit. “The very same.”

 

“What about him?”

 

“He uh, he kinda asked me out.” Laf coughed dramatically, half choking on his cake.

 

“ _Excusez-moi?_ What is the problem then?”

 

“I just,” John rubbed his face in exasperation. “I don't know if I should. He's cute and all but...iI  like someone else. Like, a lot.”

 

Laf raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, taking a long drink of his milk. He and Herc had long ago picked up on the cues that John didn't want people to know. Whether or not the curly haired boy truly believed he was inconspicuous in his desires, or if the entire thing was one big charade Laf was never sure. But whether or not John knew that they knew, the boy clearly wanted to pretend otherwise. And that was fine with Laf, he could play dumb.

 

“Does this other boy like you?” He asked evenly, slicing into a plate of ham. _Ha. Ham._

 

“I don't...I don't think so.” John’s eyes looked so mournful that Laf wanted to just grab Alexander by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. “But even if he did, I'm not sure a relationship with him is a good idea. It might...make things difficult.”

 

“So go on a date with Mr. Handsome.” Laf shrugged. “It is not as though you are getting married. And if the other guy is foolish enough not to notice how you feel, it is his loss.”

 

“But-”

 

“John.” Laf placed a hand over his hand, finally turning to give the boy his full attention, eyes wide and sincere. “I know how it feels to want someone who doesn't want you. But this boy from your hall _does_ want you. So just give it a chance.”

 

“It could be horrible.” John whined and Laf grinned a crooked, smug grin.

 

“Ah but it could be wonderful. And I think that's what you're more afraid of.” John rested his forehead on the table.

 

“Damn it. You said exactly what I thought you'd say.” His voice was muffled, and Laf laughed.

 

“You need me for validation, and that is okay. C'mon, I want another slice of cake. It all goes straight to my ass anyway.”

 

“God, if everyone in France was like you, I’d never travel.” Lafayette cackled.

 

“Oh _mon chèr ami,_ there is no one like me.” He winked and John rolled his eyes, looking like he'd decided he could use some cake as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrêtez les yeux putain et obtenir dans l'eau: quit eye fucking and get in the water
> 
> J'aimerais rien de plus que vous avez sur ce bureau très . Mais je vais attendre pour vous . Tu seras à moi=I would love nothing more than to have you on this very desk. But I will wait for you. You will be mine.
> 
> qu'Est-ce que c'est=what is it?
> 
> Okay so that thing with Charles Lee and washington legit happened to my professor when we were in a meeting and she was just like "eh it happens all the time to us"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long to update I was busy IN NEW YORK SEEING HAMILTON !!!! my dad surprised for my birthday i was literally a sobbing mess I met oak and chris and sydney and i'm just dead now
> 
> see the end of the chapter for trigger warnings, please enjoy!!

“Next week’s topic,” Freddy Steuben wrote on the board in giant black letters, the squeak of the expo marker making Alex cringe with every stroke. “Is the W-A-R on D-R-U-G-S.” He spoke as slowly as he wrote, the club members practically slipping into a coma.

 

Alex’s favorite pastime was arguing, mostly because he was never wrong. He couldn’t just “coexist” with everybody on the damn planet or “respect different opinions” blah blah blah. If he believed that he was right and the other person was wrong, he could talk until he was blue in the face. So he signed up for Debate Club, knowing that his edge would be his inability to back down and his obsession with having the last word. What others considered flaws, he could cultivate.

 

Except for the fact that, other then when he was actually speaking, the meeting were dry as hell. Friedrich von Steuben, reigning president of the club for the past two years, spent more time discussing the fundamentals of debate than he did actually allowing them time to debate. And since they were only a  _ club  _ and not an actual class on campus (Alexander every semester already hit the limit for number of classes one was allowed to take, he had no room in his schedule) so they didn’t participate in any official competitions. They just divided into teams around the end of the year and picked a couple relevant and controversial topics. It was worth it all just for that, just to be able to face off with Jefferson and demolish him.

 

He felt a nudge on the back of his chair and glanced back at Angie, who pantomimed falling asleep. He grinned and pulled his phone out from under his desk, at least having the decency to be discreet about it.

 

angel of music: after fred finishes droning on you and I need to have a little chat

slice of ham: about what my dearest angelica 

angel of music: about how when somebody tells you “no” you immediately run and do it(:

 

Alex took a deep breath and tossed her a cheeky smile, which went unreturned. He knew she meant Eliza. It had become a daily ritual for the past week, Alex waiting outside one of her classes with a cup of coffee.

 

He knew he could be charming, maybe not as effortlessly as Laf but Alexander knew what he was capable of. It made him spoiled at times: he liked someone, he seduced then, he slept with them. And that was that.

 

But he had no desire for such an affair with Eliza. Not only did she seem like the type to not take sex casually, but he thought he might genuinely like her.

 

Those huge dazzling eyes, gazing up at him like he was some magnificent creature, just left him breathless. 

 

slice of ham: yes ma'am 

 

Alex listened to Fred drone on and on and let his mind wander to the Schuyler Sisters, and their all consuming presence. 

 

He’d had a little crush on Angelica when he was just a freshman, in fact he had thought he was in love with her. The sway of her hips, they way she commanded the room, the way her eyes pierced him. 

 

He had been over his infatuation for some time, learning more to appreciate her guarded friendship, but did that make his feelings for Eliza wrong?

 

_ It's not wrong, it's not like you and Angie dated. _ He mused, chewing on his pencil eraser. _ And Eliza is actually interested in return. Plus, you need someone sweet, not someone barbed. It balances you out. If I want both sweetness and witty banter I can always turn to John.  _

 

_ John.  _ He hadn't even thought about how John would react if he started dating Eliza. Maybe it was selfish, but the thought of John getting over him, of not looking at him like he could make the sunrise, was unbearable.   _ If I'm careful about not spending too much time with just Eliza, I can keep him close.  _

 

But did he even want to  _ date  _ Eliza? He knew he genuinely liked her, but he was self aware enough to know it might have something to do with her adoration.

 

_ Well, you better figure it out. Because Angie won’t accept some half assed answer.  _ He reminded himself.

 

His phone buzzed again and he cringed on instinct, expecting another sharp remark from the girl seated behind him. But instead it was the sweet Eliza, bringing a soft smile to his face.

 

elizabeth sky: hey stranger :) any plans tonight?

 

slice of ham: as a matter of fact I do have plans. I intend to take a very beautiful girl out to dinner

 

He bit his lip after sending it, wondering if he'd even be allowed to look Eliza in the eyes after Angie chewed him out.

 

_ She can't keep you from dating her sister.  _ He almost laughed aloud at his own mind. Angelica could stop whomever she wanted. 

 

elizabeth sky: ah well what a lucky woman :p

 

He grinned to himself, squeezing his toes together tightly. This girl made him feel downright giddy. Angelica couldn't take that from him, he wouldn't let her.

 

slice of ham: it is I who is lucky, to even be in her presence 

 

_ Stupid stupid. That's so cheesy you idiot. _ But Eliza replied with several heart emojis, sending him soaring once again. 

 

His phone vibrated in his lap again and he smirked, only to his surprise it wasn't either of the enchanting sisters.

 

john tortoise: you. Me. Parks and Rec marathon. Tonight. 

 

slice of ham: can't tonight :/ I need to finish my psych paper. Severe studying.

 

He immediately hated himself for lying to John. But wasn't that kinder, ultimately?

 

“Alright,” Fred drone. “So I expected you all to be prepared with ample research next week's meeting. Dismissed.”

 

The entire room practically flew to their feet. Alex’s phone buzzed again but he shoved it in his pocket, already feeling Angie’s eyes boring holes into him. 

 

“Look, Angie.” He began the moment they stepped through the door, but she held up a perfectly manicured hand to silence him. 

 

“Alexander. Don't fuck around with me. I know how you are. And I know how you need a little entourage of worshippers around you to feel good about yourself. So I  _ need  _ you to tell me you genuinely like Eliza. And this isn't some sick ploy to add another notch to your bedpost or another member to the Alex Fan Club.” Her words were biting, gaze scathing to match, but Alex was having trouble concealing a grin.  _ She isn't saying no. _

 

“Angelica.” He looked her in the eyes, stepping closer. “I like your sister. I do. But we’re just talking for now, I hardly need the shovel talk I-”

 

Angelica grabbed him by the shirt collar, reminiscent of a high school bullying cliche. Alex almost expected her to lift him off the ground and shove him into a metaphorical locker.

 

“This isnt a  _ joke _ to me Alex. She hasn't had any serious boyfriends. She's not naive, but she's innocent. I don't need  _ you _ to be the one that brings reality crashing down on her.”

 

“Harsh.” He was openly grinning now, but he held out his hands in surrender. “Angie, I'm not a monster. I'm not trying to use her. Honest. I didn't know your opinion of me was so low.”

 

“Well it is.” Angie relaxed, releasing her death grip on his jacket, and took a deep breath. “Just be careful Alex. She's not like us.”

 

He refrained from cracking another joke, nodding somewhat solemnly. 

 

“I'll be good Angie. She's worth it.”

 

She fixed him with a long stare, before finally nodding slightly.

 

“Does John know?” He tensed on instinct, grin slipping away, his phone burning in his pocket like a red hot coal of shame.

 

“Why should he?” He couldn't refrain from snapping a little. “He could go on a date without telling me. I wouldn't mind.” She smirked. 

 

“Well that's a relief. Remember you said that Alex.”

 

Alexander hated being on the outside of knowledge, and her smiled told him he was missing something vital.  He tightened the strap on his bag, suddenly eager to go see his date for the night.

 

“What does that mean? If John was dating someone, I would know. In fact, he wouldn't even consider  _ texting _ someone without getting my opinion.” He snorted, giving her a little wave as he stomped off.

 

“Just like you asked him all about Eliza.” Angelica called after him, and he could hear the sour amusement in her tone. 

 

* * *

 

 

Angelica watched Hamilton march off with what he probably thought was gusto, but only emphasized his lack of size.  _ God he is so tiny.  _ She thought with what was most certainly not fondness. Not at all.

 

“Dull ass meeting as usual.” She sighed at the voice beside her, the whispers of a headache already prodding at her temples.

 

Thomas slumped up against the building, mock casually. He was donned in thick black glasses, annoying because 1) he actually looked pretty decent and 2) she knew for a fact he did not need prescription lenses.  _ Pretentious asshat. _

 

“Thomas.” She couldn't keep the dryness from her tone but she could manage to fake a smile, conjuring up the image of Alex trudging off like a pouty child. “I actually was hoping to run into you.”

 

He stumbled, coughing slightly on his starbucks, and her smile became genuine. 

 

“Wait, really?” He grinned cockily, his lean against the wall adapting into a one armed maneuver. “Well, what can Mr. Jefferson do for you?”

 

“Dear god, please don't refer to yourself in the third person.” She started walking, pleased with how quickly he scrambled to follow. 

 

Her throat felt tight and she scowled internally at herself for her nerves.  _ Don't make a big deal out of this. Sure, you don't date that often. And sure, you can barely tolerate Thomas in class let alone in conversation. But you told Eliza you liked him. No, worse. You told her you loved him. So you have to at least go on a couple dates. Maybe fuck him, wouldn't be torture. She'll be happy if she thinks you're happy. Plus this might distract you from openly pining over her soon to be boyfriend.  _

 

“I can carry those for you.” He offered and he held out his arms for her books.

 

“I've got it.” She almost said roughly, but the words died on in her tongue as he lifted them from her arms.

 

“Thanks.” She blinked at him and he offered up a coy grin.

 

“Anything for the beautiful Angelica. Just an example of how giving I am. And I'm just as giving in bed, as I'm sure you remember. I guarantee with me you wouldn't have to ever fake-”

 

“Thomas.” She finally stopped walking to turn and look at him, frappuccino balanced precariously on the books in his arms. “I've been thinking about what you said at the beach.”

 

“You have?” His tone was expressionless, eyes wide.

 

“Yes.” She nodded, refusing to fully meet his gaze. He was always so stuck up and obnoxious, it was uncanny to see him appear almost vulnerable. “And I...I think you're right.”

 

“You think I'm right?”  _ He's probably never heard that phrase before in his life.  _ “About..about which part?”

 

“About us. Being good together.” She took a step closer and his small inhale of breath made her feel high. 

 

“So,” He blinked in disbelief. “You want to date me?” His surprise quickly shifted into a look of self assurance. “Well well well, about time you came around. You don't know how many girls,  _ and guys _ , I've had to fight off just waiting around for you babe.”

 

“Don't push it it.” She turned on her heels and started walking again, him close behind. “You can walk me to class and then you can take me out to eat after. I'll see how I feel from there.”

 

“So you're just like, testing me out?” Angelica was worried she might have offended his massive ego, but he matched his pace to hers and smiled wickedly. “Then I'll just give you a free sample so good, you'll have to buy the product.” 

 

She rolled her eyes but smiled slightly, watching the way his eyes ran over her. Like he couldn't believe he'd managed to catch her eye. His admiration was exhilarating.

 

_ Maybe you're more like Alex than you thought. _

 

The thought made her nauseous, and she gave Thomas her full attention the rest of the walk.  _ This is for Eliza. Everything I do, it’s for her. _

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: I don't know if you guys care about body count 

french toast: but i just wanted to share with the group that I did the math and I have surpassed my record for Most People Slept With In A Semester than my last two years combined. 

slice of ham: who's record did you beat

french toast: my own, duh

zero to hero: ur sick laf 

john tortoise: yeah are you feeling okay

french toast: I don't need criticism from john the virgin ok

john tortoise: I'M NOT A VIRGIN 

slice of ham: what the fuck ur not ?

zero to hero: really?

john tortoise: ?????

french toast: it's just kindof been headcannon amongst us that you were

slice of ham: you don't call things in real life headcannon this isnt tumblr circa 2012

french toast: #ICantEven

john tortoise: well im not

john tortoise: just because i don't fuck everything that moves doesn't mean I'm a virgin

zero to hero: yikes

french toast: whoa

slice of ham: whoa

 

french toast changed the name of the group chat to John Slutshamed Me

 

slice of ham changed the name of the group chat to John Slutshamed Us

 

zero to hero: @ john I repeat, yikes 

french toast: yeah john sounds like you need to get laid

john tortoise: honestly I cant with y'all

slice of ham: don't use “y’all” around me

slice of ham: thomas jefferson trigger warning

zero to hero: “bonjour y’all”

john tortoise: “y'all wouldn't know real culture if it slapped you in the face”

john tortoise: actually tjeffs quote

slice of ham: *distant screaming*

french toast: y'all are haters 

french toast: alex as if you wouldn't sleep with him if the opportunity arose 

slice of ham: there's not enough alcohol in the fucking world

slice of ham: I'd probably sleep with jemmy tho

french toast: same

john tortoise: same

zero to hero: same

slice of ham: THE PLOT THICKENS

zero to hero: you can't prove anything

zero to hero: I mean if we got john drunk enough he'd sleep with a girl probably

john tortoise: i have(:

slice of ham: WHAT

french toast: so we were half right about the virgin thing

french toast: because you've never slept with a guy

slice of ham: I could fix that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

zero to hero: Alex as if you deserve john 

zero to hero: also that's the most disgusting face I've ever seen

slice of ham: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

french toast: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

zero to hero: wouldn't we all much rather hear the story of john having sex with a girl

john tortoise: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

zero to hero: I hate y'all 

slice of ham: wait he's right john I wanna hear about this

john tortoise: right well okay so you guys know how I dated a girl in high school

french toast: Martha yes

slice of ham: ur beard before you knew you were gay yes go on

john tortoise: well we had sex that's it 

french toast: that's IT???

zero to hero: how was it

john tortoise: I am very gay

slice of ham: *straight white male voice* But how would you know if you haven't had sex with a guy

john tortoise: don't make me laugh in the library the people here already don't like me

french toast: maybe it's because you sit at a computer the whole time and text ur friends

zero to hero: why are you at the library so late john 

john tortoise: eh nothing better to do

slice of ham: aw laf you called us friends 

french toast: I was talking to john

french toast: anyway my friends you would not believe how obnoxious my roommate is

slice of ham: HEY

zero to hero: hay is for horses 

slice of ham: hay is what I'll stuff in laf’s french pillowcase 

french toast: do you just assume everything I touch is french

french toast: my pillows are from sears 

john tortoise: can we change the name of the group chat to something else already 

 

slice of ham changed the name of the group chat to ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 

zero to hero: FUCKING 

slice of ham: hehe 

john tortoise: I miss when it was oatmeal

slice of ham: a simpler time

french toast: john wanna ditch studying and come over. Alex is almost home we’re gonna play clue

john tortoise: I LOVE CLUE

zero to hero: oh that reminds me alex how did your date go tonight

john tortoise: what 

slice of ham: uh

french toast: alex you didn't tell me you were out on a date!!

john tortoise: me either 

zero to hero: eliza right? Finally, god knows you've brought her coffee enough times 

john tortoise: that's so weird alex 

john tortoise: bc I thought you were studying 

slice of ham: john 

french toast: am I missing something

john tortoise: I think im the one missing something

zero to hero: hey lafayette didn't we have to go do that thing

french toast: oh yes that thing how could I forget silly me

 

zero to hero has left the group chat

 

french toast has left the group chat

 

slice of ham: they are so dramatic now we have to make an entirely new group chat 

john tortoise: I gotta go Alex

slice of ham: john don't be like this c'mon. Just come to clue night

slice of ham: we can play any board game you want 

slice of ham: I'll wear that stupid sweater you like

john tortoise: can't tonight. I have studying. 

 

* * *

 

 

“And then he walked me back all the way to my dorm, which is like, thirty minutes from his building. And I thought he was going to kiss me. But he didn't. Isn't that sweet?”

 

“Sweet that he didn't kiss you?” Eliza’s roommate, Maria, rolled her eyes fondly. “You're too easily pleased. He better fucking be walking you back to the dorm. And if it were me I'd certainly kiss you.” 

 

“Well,” Eliza blushed slightly. Maria could say things like that without even blinking, it blew Eliza’s mind. She was so easily flustered, so uncertain when it came to flirtations. Maria, with her red lips and big eyes, had it all figured out. “Given his...reputation I thought that it was cute that he didn't try to push it.”

 

“I would've gotten offended.” Maria leaned out the window, blowing her drag of cigarette smoke out as the wind tugged at her hair. Eliza didn't like the smell, and the other girl had always respected that. “That someone who sleeps with anyone didn't even kiss me.”

 

Eliza tilted her head.

 

“Oh. I didn’t take it that way. Do I not seem sexual?”

 

“What?” Eliza held out her arms in reply, giving a little twirl.

 

“I mean, am I sexually attractive? Do I give off a vibe of being a prude or something?” Maria opened her mouth but nothing came out, ashes crumbling to the carpet from her cigarette.

 

“I...I doubt that's it. If anything, I bet Angelica threatened him. Probably said she'd ruin his life if he laid a finger on you, etcetera etcetera.” Eliza gasped.

 

“Why didn't I think of that? God, I bet it was her. I'll go ask.”

 

“I wouldn't wake Ang up before noon on a Saturday.” Maria called out after her, but the girl was already halfway down the hall. 

 

Eliza pounded on the door before pressing her ear against it. Nothing. She jiggled the handle and, discovering it to be unlocked, swung the door open.

 

“Angie.” Her whisper wasn't much of a whisper, but the lump under the blankets didn't stir. Angie’s roommate was gone, probably home for the weekend, so Eliza crossed the room and pulled open the curtains. “Angie wake up. What did you say to Alexander?”

 

She heard a groan, saw a flash of dark skin, and the covers were pulled back. Eliza had to blink several times to register the fact that her sister wasn't alone in bed.

 

“Well,” Thomas drawled, yawning loudly. “G’morning Eliza. Sleep well?”

 

“Oh my god.” She was grinning, biting back laughter, and Angelica sat up, her expression a mixture of horror and annoyance. 

 

“My darling sister.” She was clearly holding back her usual morning snarl, voice eerily calm. “I think whatever you want to talk about, can wait a couple of hours.”

 

“Yes ma'am.” Eliza giggled, covering her mouth, and back out of the room as Angie slid back under the sheets, mumbling under her breath. Thomas gave her a wave, smile smug and huge.

 

“Give Alex my regards.”

 

Eliza shut the door behind her and heard the very distinct sound of someone being smacked in the head with a pillow.   
  


* * *

 

Nathanael Greene was very handsome. Dark hair, olive skin, piercing green eyes. John used to think colored eyes were his preference, the more beautiful, until deep brown ones had found him.

 

Nathanael Greene was very sweet. They had only gone on about three dates, and he was always such a gentleman. He would walk John back to his dorm (which was amusing considering John was sturdier looking than his thin friend. If anybody was in danger from walking alone it was Nathan), and was never vulgar or suggestive. It was cute, but it wasn't witty, perfectly timed barbs. 

 

Nathan was polite, Nathan was charming, Nathan was strikingly attractive. But Nathan was not Alex.

 

Alexander, who had never shown a single sign of feeling the same. Who lied to John to avoid spending time with him.  _ Maybe he didn't want you to be jealous. Maybe he's known all along, and he thinks you're pathetic. _

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” John looked across the tiny library table into sharp green eyes. Eyes that clearly cared for him. 

 

“I was just thinking about what a nice time I've been having. With you.” 

 

It wasn't a lie. To his surprise, he'd been enjoying going out with Nathan immensely. The first time they went out had been for a cup of coffee, and he'd found the man to be incredibly smart, really passionate about photography. The second date had been dinner and a movie, comfortable and relaxing. And the third date they'd explored the Met Museum, lingering in the film exhibits.

 

Now they were studying together in the library, John curled up in an armchair. The other boy had his long legs resting on the table, eyes framed by black glasses, face smooth and pretty. He looked how John might imagine a modern Dorian Gray.

 

“Well,” Nathan smiled at him, closing the book he was examining to give John his full attention. “I like being around you too John. A lot. You're not like anyone else I've ever met.” John felt warm down to his toes. 

 

“It's getting late,” Nathanael continued after a moment. “Would you like to come watch a movie with me, back at my dorm?” He sounded nervous and John tried not to crack a grin.  _ Did he just ask me to Netflix and chill? _

 

“Yeah,” John grinned. “That’d be nice.”

 

They headed back towards the southern end of campus, away from the building where Alex and the others all lived, and towards the more botanical part of campus. Vines and pretty flowers covered almost every concrete surface, and the greenhouse was just behind the tall dark building Nathan lead him up.  _ This is a far walk for him from my hall. God, he's so sweet. Not selfish at all. Or conceited.  _

 

“Damn,” Nathan paused with his key in the door, smiling sheepishly at John. “I forgot that my roommate was home. I mean, not that that changes anything. I just...hope you don't mind. He's cool. Really laid back. Probably asleep anyway.”

 

“I don't mind.” It was endearing, watching someone so put together seem so nervous. Nathan’s hands stilled, he turned to look at John fully.

 

“Wait.”

 

“What?” John asked, blinking at him.

 

Nathanael smiled down at him, slightly taller, and let go of the doorknob to cradle John’s face in one hand, brushing away his hair with the other. 

 

“Is this okay?” He whispered, leaning in, pausing when they were nearly nose to nose.

 

Breathless and without hesitation, John nodded. Nathan closed the distance and kissed him, holding him closely and firmly. It wasn't long, but it was sweet. And it stole the air from John, as well as several heartbeats. 

 

“Alright, c'mon.” Nathan turned the door handle, grinning like he had won the lottery, and they slipped inside.

 

John's lips tingled as he followed Nathanael, and he thought that maybe he had been right the first time around. Maybe green eyes were his preference.  
  


* * *

“Where the fuck is John?” Alex was pacing the dorm room, his repeated pathway being the only place you could actually see carpet among all the scattered papers. “I haven't seen him in, what? Twenty four hours? That just isn't natural. If he would just  _ talk _ to me I could make him un-mad.”

 

Lafayette looked up from where he was lounging on Alex’s bed. The anxious boy knew he had been talking for a while, and didn't really expect his friend to be be completely listening. He talked so much, sometimes he tuned himself out.

 

“He's was probably just busy with that boy he's been seeing.” Laf shrugged, turning the page in his fashion magazine, only half aware of the cartoon-like way Alex came to a halt.

 

“What? No.” Alex snorted. “He's not seeing anyone. He wouldn't go on a date just to get back at me.” Laf threw the magazine at his head.

 

“Not everything is about you, jackass. You really think John would use another person just to hurt you?”  _ Not everyone is like you Alex.  _ The subtext was clear, and it stung. Lafayette always spoke to him the most bluntly, capable of being even colder than Angelica. Laf saw him clearer than anyone, knew his self deprecating habits better than even Alex did. 

 

“But, I mean c'mon Laf. Are you going to make me say it?”

 

“What? That he's in love with you?” Laf sat up, crossing his legs and leaning back on his palms. “ _ Oui.  _ This is well known Alex. But that doesn't mean he's gonna sit around and love you forever. He can move on.”

 

The thought shook Alex so deeply that he immediately banished it. He craved adoration, his entire existence thrived on it. There was no way he could lose that from it's purest source. It was too disturbing to even dwell on.

 

“Okay but-”

 

“Alex,” Laf cut him off quickly, his tone increasing in impatience. “I do not want to get in the middle of this weird secret fest between you two. Just talk to John. Work it out. Then bring him here tonight so we can play some fucking Clue. Just make sure it’s after like, nine. I’ll be home late.”

 

“Right.” Alex was dismissive, shoving his phone in his pocket and practically running out of the dorm, not bothering to say goodbye.

 

_ How can he honestly be mad at me when he's the one who's been sneaking around for longer? I'm not actually  _ **_dating_ ** _ Eliza. We're just talking. What a hypocrite. Why is he so mad? Why won’t he just text me back? Why the fuck is he going on dates? Is he lonely? He's never mentioned being lonely. What can some stranger offer him that he couldn't get from his friends? From me? _

 

Alexander was aware that he was jealous, storming down towards the overgrown section of campus. But it wasn't for the reasons John was probably hoping for. He just didn't like competition for his affection.  _ This boy is gonna steal John from me.  _

 

Alex finally made it to the greenhouse, an instant calm washing over him at the pleasant aroma of flowers and the soft pastels of the plants.

 

“Eliza!” He whispered, speaking any louder felt wrong.

 

A kneeling figure looked up and  _ god,  _ she looked downright adorable in a little sun hat that tied beneath her chin.

 

“Alex,” She beamed and stood up, brushing the dirt from her hands on her jeans. “What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you of course.” Alex rocked back and forth on his heels.

 

“I uh, I forgot something last night. When I last saw you.”

 

“What?” She tilted her head, looking so cute in her confusion.

 

“This.” 

 

Alex smiled at her before wrapping a hand around the base of her neck and crushing their lips together. She didn't respond immediately, and he felt nervous that he had overstepped, and now Angelica would slaughter him for sure. But to his sweet, sweet relief she leaned into his touch and kissed him back.

 

Her movements were shy, hesitant. But he moved to tilt his head, deepening the kiss, and she melted into him, her arms holding him by the waist. 

 

“Glad I remembered.” He breathed, pulling back to rest his forehead against hers, and her smile was the sunlight. 

 

“Me too.” She closed her eyes, the picture of contentedness, and he watched her face. Mesmerized by her every inch of soft, freckle-less skin. 

 

“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tonight?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

“Tonight.” She promised, glancing shyly at the couple members of the Gardening Club around them, grinning but not quite looking.

 

He quickly kissed her again, a brief goodbye kiss, and practically danced out of the greenhouse. He felt like jumping up and clicking his heels, was that only for the movies?  _ Fuck it _ . He glanced around before skipping and jumping in the air, clicking his feet together.

 

He felt much better now.  
  


* * *

His meetings with Washington were completely unnecessary at this point, Lafayette and the professor were both aware. But the frenchman liked to think they had become friends by now. For the past three weeks, twice a week, he'd headed up to Washington’s office. They always started out talking about class, sure, but eventually conversation drifted, and they were soon laughing and gossiping like the professor was another student. 

 

_ Is it inappropriate? Oui, that makes it all the more enthralling.  _ Laf had brought coffee this week, two spoonfuls of sugar for George and a shit ton of half and half for himself.  _ Soon we'll be planning slumber parties and road trips to Ohio. _

 

He had begun calling George by his first name, sometimes even calling him The General, and the professor never corrected him. He never moved his arm away, either, when Laf would laugh and lay his hand on him, lingering. 

 

He hadn’t told his friends anything about spending time with George, except dropping a couple hints to Hercules here and there. It was strange, the four of them shared everything. To the point sometimes where Laf  _ really  _ didn’t want to know. But he hadn’t even mentioned his crush on the professor, or rapidly developing feelings. He wasn’t sure what was holding him back, perhaps fear of shattering his reputation as the heartless lover. The opposite of Alex, who over-romanticized his every affair.

 

Speaking it aloud just felt taboo, like he was jinxing it. Everything was a joke to them, and he didn’t want them to make fun of this. Didn’t want it to become another inside joke, turn into him having some kind of older man fetish. Sure,Lafayette could laugh at himself. He was the one mostly responsible for finding the humor within every situation. He just didn’t want to cope with how serious this was beginning to feel.  _ Either that, or keeping things hidden turns you on. _

 

“Tell me George,” He had kicked his feet up on the man's desk one meeting, the professor merely rolling his eyes as he continued to type away. “Have you ever earned your title of General?”

 

“Lafayette,” The man smiled at him over his glasses. It took several occasions of correcting to get him to stop calling Laf Gilbert. There was nothing sexy about Gilbert. Even the idea of Washington screaming it made him cringe. “Are you asking me if I've ever hooked up with a student?”

 

“My lips are sealed General.” Laf smirked. “This is merely to satisfy my own curiosity.”

 

“Well I haven't.” The man always looked like he was choking back a laugh when talking to Laf, something that made the frenchman’s heart swell fondly. “Although I have been...propositioned. It's unprofessional.”

 

“How noble of you. Turning away helpless young women.” Washington took the bait.

 

“Well, it's easy for me to turn women away.”

 

Laf smiled at the memory. It had to mean something, George’s semi coming out to him. Why would he tell his sexy young student that he’s gay if not for selfish reasons?  _ Maybe he trusts you. _ A voice scolded him, but the stronger voice persuaded him.  _ That ass would get anybody out of the closet Laf, don't doubt yourself. _

 

He had brought coffee tonight because they'd had to move their meeting to later in the day, six pm, due to George having an important board conference. Laf was thrilled, once the sun had set it was far more likely that the professor wouldn't resist him.

 

He made his way into the building, which he despised. It was old, the elevator rickety and slow, and unnecessarily tall. It was as though to save space, they had built upwards instead of horizontally. It made the ninth floor like a sauna, the ventilation as old as the shitty elevator.

 

The old lights flickered ominously as Laf pressed the ninth button, the shaft screaming and groaning as it carried him up. 

 

He knew something was wrong when the doors slid open and the hallway was black.  _ It's because nobody is here yet, you chicken. The other teachers have gone home and George is meeting you here. You just beat him to it is all. _

 

He walked down the hall cautiously, blinking and willing his eyes to adjust faster. It was natural to be a little scared of the dark, he assured himself. George’s office being at the end didn't help at all.

 

He got to the door and stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of faint whispering. Laf quickly reached around the corner and flicked on the light, feeling his heart in his throat, and several shapes stood up and cursed in surprise.

 

“Charles?” Laf gaped at the boy in surprise, pulse slowing down as his figure rose from it's hiding place behind George’s desk.

 

“What the fuck are  _ you _ doing here?” A boy he didn't recognize, as well as two others rose up, and Laf’s brain scrambled to connect the dots.

 

_ What is this? What the fuck is this? _

 

“I could ask you the same.” Laf stood tall, glaring openly at Charles Lee. “Why are you in the professor’s office?”

 

“This fairy is going to ruin everything.” Another boy hissed, and Laf thought he looked vaguely familiar. Was he John’s roommate? All white boys looked the same to Laf.

 

“Excuse me?” Laf stared down at the boy, pouring all the hate he could muster into his eyes. “You boys better fuck off before I call campus security.” He pulled out his phone, praying this wouldn’t interfere with his time with George.

 

Lafayette didn't remember Charles Lee being so big, or his legs being so long, but he crossed the room in what felt like seconds and had Laf’s wrist in his hand, the boy’s phone slipping to the the floor, screen shattering. 

 

Lafayette might have been born rich, but he knew how to protect himself. He didn't fuck around. Laf instantly shoved his tray of coffee forward into Charles’ chest, the scalding drinks soaking him and causing him to jump back with a yelp.

 

“Why you little-” The boy rushed him and Lafayette swung, fist connecting with his nose, and he didn't know if the crack he heard was bone or his own knuckles. 

 

Charles shrieked, touching his bloody face while stumbling backwards, and their eyes met for an instant, hatred burning between them like a forest fire, before Laf felt himself grabbed roughly from the back, arms jerked behind him.

 

“ _ Lâchez-moi vous putain bastard, _ ” He yelled, kicking his legs out. At this point he was more furious than afraid. Were these idiots waiting to jump the professor before he'd arrived? What did they hope to accomplish?

 

“You little fucking shit.” Charles wiped his nose on the back of his hand and grabbed something off the desk that Laf hadn't noticed before. A metal pipe. 

 

Suddenly his anger faded into chilling fear, and he twisted and screamed more furiously to escape being held. He was outnumbered, couldn't budge, and alone in one of the emptiest buildings in the school. 

 

“This was for that cunt Washington,” Charles spat, approaching Laf. “But I'll warm up on you.” 

 

He swung back, Laf watching his arms move in slow motion, and hit him across the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Lafayette saw stars. He double over, mouth floundering for air, and noticed the coffee dripping into a pool around his feet. He wondered vaguely if the janitors had already come by for the night. If they’d have to clean it in the morning.

 

It was the second swing though, the one that struck him in the chest and caused a loud  _ crack  _ to echo through his body, that had his vision go black.

 

“Break his nose Lee.” The boy holding him- Samuel? Sandy?-chimed in and Lee smirked, his blood dripping over his teeth like a horror movie monster. Their voices were muffled, like Lafayette was underwater. He raised his arm again to swing and Laf closed his eyes, bracing for impact, thinking of France. Of how pretty his face was and how a nose job would just  _ ruin _ his game for at least a couple months. Of how it probably wouldn’t be so bad because at least it would distract him from the  _ agony  _ in his ribcage.

 

But the impact never came. He felt a massive force from behind knock him and Samuel  (He was now certain it was Samuel) to the ground. He didn't bother trying to get up, vision blurry and still gasping for breath, but he heard the scrambling of several boys running away. Saw a massive figure wrestling the pipe away from Lee. Reel back, and punch the boy in the face with such force that he fell to the ground.

 

“Oh god, oh dear god.” Washington breathed after several heartbeats, panting heavily and kneeling down next to Lafayette. “Gilbert, are you alright?” 

 

Lafayette coughed and there was blood. He looked up at the professor, who was a fuzzy outline, and smiled faintly, hoping he didn’t look disgusting. “ _ Oui _ , you saved me.”

 

“Can you breath can you move? What happened?”

 

Lafayette didn't reply, it was too much effort, just weakly lifted a hand towards George. He was in enough pain to not wonder if he could get away with it or not. To hell with seduction, the man had just punched another student for him.

 

George took the hand and tucked his free one under Laf’s head, pulling him closer, and took out his phone to send a hasty text.

 

“They're going to fire me.” Washington whispered, defeat coloring his tone, and glanced back at Charles’ unmoving figure. “They are going to fucking fire me.”

  
He sat like that, holding a gasping Lafayette in his lap, until the campus police showed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: mild violence
> 
> Lâchez-moi vous putain bastard= Let go of me you fucking bastard


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys SO MUCH for your beautiful and overwhelming comments. I'm laughing out loud at some of y'all. I'll reply to all of them when I have more time, thank you for enjoying this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

elizabeth sky: oh I forgot to mention jefferson says hello

slice of ham: what the hell was that scumbag doing around you

slice of ham: my woman

elizabeth sky: alexander you are too much

elizabeth sky: but you will be very interested to know where I found him….

slice of ham: ??????

slice of ham: eliza schuyler don't you tease me like this

slice of ham: if you have dirt on jefferson I NEED it

slice of ham: N E E D  I T

elizabeth sky: well if you would quit triple texting me I might have a chance to type it out

elizabeth sky: he was with angelica 

elizabeth sky: he was with angelica, in her bed

slice of ham: holy 

slice of ham: fucking 

slice of ham: SHIT

slice of ham: SHE IS TOO GOOD FOR THAT SLIME I'LL MURDER HIM

elizabeth sky: you sound just like her lol

slice of ham: god bless your soul for sharing this juicy gossip with me

elizabeth sky: dating me has it's perks 

slice of ham: my perks are as follows

slice of ham: - I am literally always awake so I'll never miss your call

slice of ham: - I am smol and can survive in any temperature, so if you need more blankets i am good

slice of ham: - I am fully aware that you are out of my league so I will never take you for granted

elizabeth sky: that was like a modern love letter

slice of ham: screenshot it so you can show our children

  
  


Alexander bit his lip after she didn't immediately reply, wondering if he had made the classic Alex mistake of coming on too strong. Maybe he was irrational in his romances because he lacked foresight.  _ Whatever.  _ He knew he wanted her now, wanted her with all his heart, so what did it matter if he couldn't promise he'd feel the same in a year? They could all die tomorrow. Maybe he was already in love.

 

elizabeth sky: “look kids, this is back before texting became obsolete, when mommy and daddy met”

slice of ham: you could call me daddy now if you wanted

elizabeth sky: alexander hamilton

slice of ham: GOD IM KIDDING IM SORRY

slice of ham: the opportunity was right there 

slice of ham: if we’re doing pet names I'd much rather be called darling or something

elizabeth sky: and what'll you call me?

slice of ham: my universe

slice of ham: queen of my heart

slice of ham: my one true love

elizabeth sky: one kiss and look at you romeo 

slice of ham: there's more where that came from 

slice of ham: hey what are you doing right now

elizabeth sky: like at this moment?

elizabeth sky: getting ready for bed why

slice of ham: wanna come over

slice of ham: I mean, just to like watch movies and talk

slice of ham: it's just that lafayette still isn't home so I doubt he's going to be

elizabeth sky: does your roommate often disappear without a text

slice of ham: eh he's unpredictable 

slice of ham: is that a yes?

elizabeth sky: it is

slice of ham: i don't want you walking alone, wait for me to come get you

elizabeth sky: okay<3

 

Alex grinned and yanked his shoes on, tugging a hoodie on over his head and racing down his hall into the cool night air. He shot Lafayette a text to ensure his roommate wouldn't return, but he didn't reply.  _ Huh, he must be in the middle of a really good hook up if he can't even tell me whether or not he's coming home. _

 

Alex pulled the hood over his head, the wind whipping his hair into his face, and quickened his pace as he approached the tall dark building in front of the greenhouse. He wondered if it was by coincidence or effort that she lived so close to her gardening paradise. 

 

He tapped in the keycode she had given him to get in, and paused when he saw two figures near the back of the main room, lounging on a couch. One of the figures was one he could recognize blindfolded in the dark, and the other was a guy he had literally never seen before in his life.

 

“John?” He stepped closer and the boys stood up.

 

“Alex?” John squinted at him, as if unsure if he was real. “What are you doing here?”

 

“One of my friends lives here. And  _ you _ ?” He pointedly did not look at the very tall man standing next to John. Because he was just unfairly gorgeous.  _ Maybe I should be flattered. Maybe it means John's type is only the most elite in the looks department.  _

 

“I'm here with Nathan.” Why did he have to say his name like that? And glance up at him with a look previously reserved for Alex and Alex alone.

 

“Hey man.” Bigfoot held out his hand to Alex, smiling with a row of perfect white teeth. “You must be Alex, John talks about you all the time.”

 

“Oh?” Alex arched an eyebrow, shaking the hand more firmly than necessary. “Because this is the first I'm hearing your name.”

 

John laughed with what Alex knew was unease, but Slenderman only smiled.

 

“So what brings you to lower campus, Alexander?”  _ It's just Alex.  _

 

“I'm here to see Eliza.” He replied curtly.

 

“His girlfriend.” John whispered to Nathan to clarify, leaning closer into him, but he was staring at Alex as he did so. Daring him to disagree. 

 

Alex opened his mouth to reply and phone loudly blared out Disney’s I Can Go The Distance, echoing across the room. He hit silent without even looking, mildly embarrassed and already uncomfortable as is..

 

“Is that Herc calling?” John frowned, pulling out his own phone. “Because I have like, four missed calls from him too. Oh, hang on. Needy bastard.” His phone lit up and he smiled apologetically at Nathan before holding it up to his ear. “What's up?”

 

Alexander watched the light fall from John’s eyes and stepped closer on instinct, feeling his stomach drop ominously. John locked eyes with him and Alex’s dread was confirmed by the fear within them.

 

“Yeah. Yeah no okay. The hospital on fourteenth street? Yeah, we'll be right there. Yeah, he's with me right now. Okay. Love you too.” He hung up and stepped towards Alex, looking on the verge of tears. “It's Lafayette. He's hurt.”

 

Alex didn't need to hear any more. He closed the distance between him and John and grabbed his hands, feeling a cold settle into his skin and beneath his bones.

 

“Hospital?”

 

“Yes. Herc’s car is still-”

 

“East campus yes. Herc-?”

 

“Already there. Got-”

 

“The keys. Yeah. Let's go.” Alex said. Being on the same page at all times had it's benefits. 

 

Alex grabbed John's arm, ready to run all the way to the hospital if he had to, but the boy paused for a moment.

 

“I'm so sorry Nathan but I've gotta go. It's my friend. He's been attacked and-”

 

“It's okay.” Nathan said softly, concern etched across his face, while the word  _ attacked  _ was ringing in Alex’s ears. “Call me when you can.”

 

“I will.” John leaned up and kissed him before grabbing Alex and, nodding at his friend, running out of the building.

 

Alex shot Eliza a quick text telling her there was an emergency, and he's so sorry but he’ll explain later.

 

“Attacked?” He breathed, running through the eerily empty campus, and John threw him a devastated look.

 

“I don't know that much. Herc could barely speak. He was crying Alex.  _ Herc.”  _ Alex swallowed heavily.

 

“So it must be...it must be pretty bad then.”

 

“Let's just get there as fast as we can.”

 

Alex was trying to keep his grip on reality steady, trying not to let his vision swim. But the treacherous thought had already crept in.  _ What if he dies? What if he dies?  _

 

Alexander had watched too many loved ones disappear from his life, to the point where he felt cursed.  _ I didn't even say goodbye to Lafayette earlier. _

 

_ Lafayette.  _

 

The first person he'd met and befriended in America. John was his best friend, would always be his best friend, but Laf was his brother. There were not words to describe the place in his life that Lafayette held. Expect maybe family. 

 

Alex’s fingers were trembling as he tried to shove the keys into the ignition. He was shaking, his growing frustration only making it more difficult, and John placed a steady hand over his own.

 

“Hey.” Alex had heard that in times of crisis between two people, one person’s breaking point would make the other calm. John’s voice was reassuring. Loving. “Do you want me to drive?”

 

“Yes.” Alex practically sobbed.

 

They switched seats in record time, and John floored the pedal out of the parking lot, reaching one hand over to give Alex’s arm a comforting squeeze. Alex pressed his head against the glass, sitting in agonizing silence as he watched the city speed past in a blur.

 

“If we're taking Herc’s car, how is he already there?” Alex asked quietly after a beat.

 

“He was already in town. So he walked. He fucking ran.” John choked, and they fell back into silence for several minutes. 

 

“So,” Alex looked up from the window. “Is that something you and Nathan are doing now? Kissing?”

 

“You really wanna do this now Alex?” John was gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, weaving between cars expertly. Alex vaguely remembered that John didn't have his licence. 

 

“It's a twenty minute drive, you wouldn't rather fight than think about where we’re going?” Alex grumbled, and John let out a long sigh.

 

“You didn't tell me you were seeing Eliza. You lied to me.”

 

“You were doing the same!” Alex shifted so that his feet were under him, lifting up out of the seat with every bump in the road. “You're seeing and kissing some freakishly tall dude, and you didn't even ask me-”

 

“Oh.” John threw him a withering look. “So i have to  _ ask  _ you who I date now? I need your  _ permission _ ?”

 

“That's not what I meant.” Alex felt his ears ringing. The world was falling apart around him, he and John never fought and Lafayette was always okay. “I just thought that we told each other everything. I thought you would've asked my opinion.”

 

“I know how you get.” John raised his voice to match Alex’s. “You would dislike anybody I dated. You're always worried your friends are gonna replace you.”

 

“Well, maybe my fears are fucking logical. Because now you're ignoring my texts and just hanging around with the fucking bird man.”

 

“I’ve been ignoring you  _ because you fucking lied to me _ !” 

 

John swerved the car through a back entrance to the small hospital closest to campus, and threw the car into park without bothering to see where he had stopped.

 

“Let's go.” His voice was still angry, but tendrils of fear snaked through his tone.

 

Both boys slammed their car doors, refusing to look at one another as they stormed into the hospital. Alex was immediately unnerved by how clean it was, how quiet.  _ It smells like Lysol to cover up the stench of death. Why is it so still? People fucking  _ **_die_ ** _ here. _

 

“Hi. We're here to see Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. He's twenty two. Tall. Black. Long hair.”  John told the nurse hurriedly, who gave him a sympathetic smile as she types into her computer. 

 

“Your friend is alright dear. He's not critical, just some broken ribs-” Alex inhaled sharply. “And a bruised abdomen. You can wait in those chair right over there until-”

 

“Ma'am,” Alex shoved his way forward. “We have to see him  _ now.  _ Please. We just, we  _ have _ to see him.”

 

“I'm so sorry darling.” Alex liked her sympathetic smile a lot less when it was directed at him. “The nurses are with him now, as well as another gentleman. And we only allow one visitor at a time. If you'll just wait-”

 

“ _ Please _ ,” Alex sobbed, loud enough for several other staff member to look up, and John placed a hand on the small of his back. 

 

“Alexander.” John's voice was like a rope in tumultuous waters. He grasped at it like his life depended on it. “Let's just sit down, okay?”

 

John guided him back to the chairs, fingers intertwined, and they sat on a large couch, pressed so close together they only took up one seat.

 

“Hey,” John had an arm around him that Alex didn't remember him ever putting there. He leaned into him, resting his head on John’s chest, letting the steady thump of his heart calm him. “Lafayette is okay, alright? He's not gonna die, and this isn't your fault.”

 

“How do you always know what I'm thinking?” He mumbled, closing his eyes while John rubbed small circles on his shoulder. “Even when I don't, you always know.”

 

“You're my best friend.” John said very softly, and Alex felt him staring down at him. 

 

Alex sat up to look at John, comforted by how his own worry was mirrored perfectly in his best friend’s eyes. He squeezed his hand.

 

“You  _ are _ my best friend. And I'm sorry we’re fighting.”

 

“Me too.” John said quietly.

 

Nothing else needed to be said, at least not for the time being.  _ We can fight more later.  _

 

Alex once again nuzzled into John’s side. The curly haired boy rested his head on top of Alex’s, letting out a long sigh, and Alexander finally felt his pulse beginning to slow down.

 

* * *

 

 

Lafayette was friends with Thomas, unlike the rest of his group, however he did have one point of contention with the man;

 

He was rich, and he acted like he was better than anyone else because of it.

 

Lafayette was far wealthier, only for the french teenager it was a subject of shame. He was embarrassed that he'd grown up with servants bending to his every whim, without having to work a day in his life when so many were suffering. He wasn't foolish enough to wish away his privilege, when he inherited his family fortune one day he would use it to do tremendous good, and he did develop several luxurious habits. However, he was always aware of it separating himself from his peers, could see it sometimes in their eyes, the rift between him and other people.

 

Thomas Jefferson wanted the whole world to know he was well off, flaunted it in people’s faces. Lafayette, on the other hand, had never been grateful for his status since moving to America. 

 

Up until tonight.

 

When the paramedics finally arrived, along with campus security, and several police officers, they had only asked him one question, probably wary of overwhelming him.

 

“Do you want an ambulance?”  _ Can you afford an ambulance? _

 

“Yes.” Laf had breathed, each inhale and exhale making his chest feel like it was collapsing in on him. “And I can pay for any pain medicine. I want some fucking morphine.”

 

After that, everything was a painful blur, his memories existing in snapshots. He remembered George trying to insist he ride in the ambulance with him, a bulky officer insisting he stay for questioning. George's eyes big and fearful. George holding his hand. Asking if he wanted him to call anyone.

 

“Hercules.” Breath. “Mulligan.”

 

He bit his lip to keep from crying out at they lifted him onto the stretcher and alone into the truck with flashing lights. He wanted to scream, wanted to kick and beg for them to let George come with him and hold his hand for longer. But he remained calm and unblinking, even managing to smile at the man who slid an IV tube into his arm. 

 

_ You are not afraid. You are not afraid.  _ He chanted internally to himself on repeat. The car went over a pothole and he gasped, the motion shaking his battered body like a rag doll.

 

“It's alright it's alright. Hey, I'm Lucas. What's your name?” The man spoke like one might to a feral cat, but Laf found it soothing nonetheless.

 

“You can call me Lafayette.” He whispered, and the man chucked.

 

“Now there's a name. Lafayette, can you follow this light with your eyes for me?” He did, imagining he was in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy and this was McDreamy himself.

 

“Lafayette, do you have any family you need us to contact? Someone right we can get to right away, before they go through your emergency paperwork back at school?”

 

“ _ Non,  _ they are back in France. My family here is on the way.”  _ Hercules. John. Alex. _

 

“That's good. Alright, now this pain medicine is going to kick in pretty soon. So I want you to-”

 

And Lafayette had blinked and he was laying in a hospital bed, surrounded by so much white he thought he might go blind.

 

This time, however, he was not alone.

 

“Gilbert. You're awake.” George looked his age, if not older, hands clenched together tightly.

 

“George, for the love of god, call me Lafayette.” He felt incredibly drowsy, wanting to just close his eyes and return to dreamless sleep, but the relieved laugh of the professor grounded him.

 

“Of course. Lafayette.” He touched his arm, looking at him intently. “Listen, Lafayette. I don't think I'll be able to visit you again after this. The school board is already gathering together a panel to...review the incident. To go over what happened, every detail, to see if I still have a job, or if I face a lawsuit.” 

 

“Wh- what?” Laf tried to sit up, but either he was too groggy or his body had suddenly grown heavier, because it proved impossible. “That's ridiculous. It was self defence. Charles had a  _ weapon. _ ”

 

“And I'm a professor.” George looked grim. “I don't want me visiting you to corrupt your testimony in any way. I know the second you're on your feet, those vultures will pick apart everything you saw. I'm already afraid they'll turn our little meetings into something….vulgar. Try to prove my lack of character.”

 

“Would it really be so vulgar?” He mumbled and George chuckled lightly.

 

“This isn't the time for jokes Gilbert. I don't want anything worse to happen to you by me hanging around. I just…” His voice broke slightly, piercing through Laf’s drug induced haze. “I had to make sure you were okay. And I had to thank you.”

 

“Thank me?  _ Ne soyez pas ridicule _ . I did nothing. I was simply there.”

 

“Exactly. It should have been me. They were waiting for me...and you're the one in a hospital bed.”

 

“White boys think they can get away with everything.” Laf placed his hand over George’s, agony plastered across his face. “George, please, do not blame yourself.”

 

“There's no one else to blame.” George stood up, regaining his composure, and nodding at Lafayette. “I pray for your recovery to be swift and painless. I hope I can see you again once this is over. And I am  _ so sorry _ you had to be caught in this mess.”

 

_ J’e taime.  _ Laf didn't want him to leave, didn't know how to vocalize this. He simply nodded in return, mouth dry, and watched George pause in the doorway.

 

“I promise you one thing though, Lafayette.” George’s expression shifted into fear-inspiring determination, cold as stone. “I will do everything in my power to make sure those boys never set foot on campus again. Even if it means I don't.”

 

* * *

 

 

“So, lover boy stood you up huh?”

 

Eliza hadn't moved from the edge of her bed, staring mournfully down at her phone, fully dressed with carefully applied makeup.

 

“It's not like that, he said he had an emergency.” She smiled weakly at Maria, knowing how weak her argument sounded once it escaped her lips.

 

“Typical boy.” Maria rolled her eyes and crossed the room to Eliza, tugging her sleeve. “C'mon. This pity party is over.”

 

“What?” Eliza looked up at her roommate from her phone, crinkling her brows together. Maria grinned at her.

 

“You got all pretty and Alex stood you up.”

 

“He didn't-”

 

“He stood you up,” Maria continued louder. “And I will  _ not  _ let you mope here all night like you did over that boy in your chemistry lab.”

 

“Well  _ he _ never kissed me.” Eliza grumbled, and Maria pulled her to her feet.

 

“It is a beautiful night in the city that never sleeps, we aren't wasting it. I'm not saying your little boyfriend doesn't have a good excuse, although if he doesn't i might just shave his head.”

 

“Maria-”

 

“All I'm saying is, and I say this with love, is I know how you get when you fall for people. And you can't treat them like some angelic beings.” Eliza frowned and Maria patted her cheek. “ _ You  _ are the angelic being, and this short ass boy you like can't be the source of your happiness. So,” She grabbed her purse, moving towards the mirror to apply her bright red lipstick, still talking as she swiped the stick across her lips. “You and I are going to hit the city. I am going to smoke, you are going to say nothing about it. And we are going to have fun. Okay?”

 

Eliza couldn't resist laughing, her roommate staring at her with mock intensity and a resolve Eliza knew she couldn't find a way out of.

 

“Okay. You win Maria. Let me find my heels.”

 

“Oh fuck, she's putting the heels on.” Maria held out her lipstick to Eliza, her smirk like the Cheshire cat. All knowing and mischievous. “Now we’re talking.”

 

* * *

 

 

Hercules had been out eating when he got the call.

 

Unlike Alex and Laf, he felt no burning desire to be out and about at all hours of the night. He was content to sit in bed reading, and would probably spend every evening that way if they didn’t drag him out. Hadn’t come into his life and changed him so drastically.

 

So it was strange then, that he'd had such a sudden craving to walk around the city. He found spending time alone to be very calming, so he didn't text any of the boys, just got up and went for a long walk in the cool night air. 

 

He bought a couple hot dogs from a stand and was sitting on a bench in the middle of an intersection, the screeching of the cars soothing and melodious to him. 

 

He'd grown up in a small town in Ohio, first generation after his parents moved to America from Ireland, and had spent all his childhood around green pastures as close to home as his family could get.

 

He'd never known what he was missing until high school, when a couple of his friends had taken the train out into the city. His entire body was filled with buildings that reached up into the stars, lights so bright and blinding that you were certain for a moment that the sun was just a myth, that this was what there really was.

 

Senior year of college, and the charm still wasn't lost on him.

 

Unlike John and Alex, when he felt his phone vibrate, he answered immediately, chewing his food contentedly.

 

“This is Mulligan.”

 

“Hercules Mulligan?” A panicked voice asked, and he sat up straighter.

 

“Yes, is something wrong?” His mother had a very weak heart, and he was always anticipating the call.

 

“Your friend, Gilbert Lafayette, asked me to call you.” A new kind of fear washed over him, one that wasn't far away where it had moved back to Ireland. One that was close, one that was his sanctuary.

 

“Lafayette? Is he okay?” He kept his voice steady.  _ Idiot always gets himself into trouble, don't panic. Maybe he swallowed a condom or something.  _

 

“I- I don't know.” The voice was shaky, rushed, sending shockwaves through Herc. “I don't have much time to explain, I'm sorry. Some boys attacked him, and he's hurt. The ambulance is taking him to Hope Memorial hospital.”  _ Attacked. Hurt. Ambulance.  _ “He wanted me to call you.”

 

_ Of course he did. _ Herc nodded solemnly, standing up and letting his hot dogs fall to the street.

 

“Thank you sir-”

 

“Professor Washington.”  _ That guy Alex idolises? _ He'd met the professor a couple of times when he was a teacher’s assistant to Ms. White, but he didn't know much about him. Other than that, apparently, he had been there was Laf got hurt.

 

Herc forced his mind to focus on the most important detail; that Hope Memorial was only three miles from here.

 

“Thank you professor.” He hung up, shoving his phone into his jacket, and broke into a sprint. 

 

_ Oh Laf, what did you get yourself into? _

 

He remembered the first time he ever saw Lafayette, in the government class he was a teacher’s aid for, and how he had thought he was probably the most beautiful man he'd ever seen. Lafayette had this charisma about him, this charm, that just made you want to never look away. It had pulled at Herc like a magnet, he’d been drawn to Laf from the start.

 

The first time they'd hung out, it was obvious Lafayette was trying to seduce him. He'd flirted with him in class then had text Herc inviting him over to his dorm room asking for Herc to “tutor” him.

 

“Hey.” Herc had said when Laf opened the door, a man of many words. 

 

“Oh Hercules, come in please!” He opened the door wide, clad in only a black tank top and ridiculously tight pants. “My roommate will be here in a couple of hours, but I think you'll like him. Or hate him. There's no in between with Alex.”

 

“That loud kid is your roommate?” He'd asked and Laf had just smirked, laying stomach side down on a bed and kicking his feet up.

 

“Ah, you have described him perfectly. Please, sit.” Laf patted a space on the in bed beside him.

 

Herc closed the door behind him, feeling like he was entering the dragon’s lair, and sat cautiously on the edge of the bed near the beautiful boy. Herc wasn't usually so impulsive, showing up at people's dorms on a school night, particularly freshman. But Laf had that pull, and Herc couldn't help but be a little curious to discover more about him.

 

“So,” Laf sat up, swinging his legs over onto Herc’s lap and pulling out a textbook. “I kinda tuned out White for the majority of the civil war, and I did not have the luxury of having learned American history in France.”

 

“You grew up in France?”

 

“ _ Oui,” _ He twirled a strand of his very curly hair around his finger, his legs warm over Herc’s, and smiled winningly. “A little town in the Auvergne-Rhône-Alpes region, although unless you study maps for fun I'm sure that information means nothing to you.”

 

“Why'd you come here?” Herc studied him, surprised to see that what he'd assumed was a facade of carelessness was genuinely the boy’s personality. 

 

“The men.” Laf winked, then laughed. “ _ Non, _ I have always admired the American government. I’d like to be a politician here. Although, it is harder for me here to get wine.” He sighed.

 

“I can get wine.” Herc offered, and Laf grinned at him.

 

“Right now?”

 

“Sure.” Herc shrugged. “There’s a store right down the street, if you-” Lafayette interrupted him by wrapping his arms around his neck and planting a kiss on him, square on the lips. 

 

“ _ Merci beaucoup, _ you are my hero for the night. Let's go.” He pulled a startled Herc to his feet. “I haven't had decent wine since the school year started. We can order pizza too.”

 

They'd gone to the nearest liquor store, Lafayette’s antics making Herc laugh out loud. He had insisted on trying on every pair of dorky drugstore sunglasses. And they had bought gigantic slushies alongside the wine. 

 

“Alright, go.” Laf had commanded on the walk back, and they slurped them down to see who could withstand a brain freeze for the longest amount of time, tongues turning bright blue. 

 

By the time the pizza man showed up at their dorm, they were very intoxicated. 

 

“Thank you, monsieur.” Laf batted his eyes at the boy as he tipped him, and Herc had chuckled.

 

“You are very flirtatious.” Herc hadn't gotten drunk in a while, due to mostly keeping to himself, and he was very much enjoying how relaxed he felt and enjoying the company of the enigmatic frenchman. 

 

“It's a French thing.” Laf chugged some of the red wine straight from the bottle. “Actually I'm full of shit, it's just a me thing.” 

 

“Is this what you usually do on a school night?” Herc had laughed, but it died in his throat at how intensely Lafayette had been looking at him.

 

“No, usually  _ this _ is what I do on a school night.”

 

He had crawled across the floor and into Herc’s lap once again, resting a hand on the larger boy’s chest, and reunited their lips, pressing his body close against Herc’s. Hercules didn't know if it was the boy or the alcohol or the charm that the whole evening possessed that influenced him, but he had kissed Lafayette back. 

 

At his reciprocation, Laf had immediately shifted so that he had a leg on either side of Herc’s lap, straddling him, and held his face in both his hands, deepening the kiss. They didn't move from that position for quite some time, innocently and drunkenly making out, except for Herc placing his hands on Laf’s hips.

 

“Wait,” Laf pulled back after what Herc was positive had to be at least twenty minutes, and looked at him breathlessly. “I like you.”

 

“I like you.” Herc repeated softly, enchanted by Laf’s sweetness, but the boy shook his head.

 

“ _ Non _ , I mean, I had a wonderful time tonight. It was fun. And I'd rather do it again then just sleep with you.”

 

“Do it again?” Herc had consumed too much wine to think straight. “So you want to go back to the drugstore?”

 

“No,” Laf crawled off his lap, sitting close beside him. “I want you to be my friend.”  _ God, how do you say no to something like that? _

 

Hercules wanted to explain that no, he did not have friends. He didn't like planting roots, because everything ended. People got hurt. And he wasn't going to stay in New York forever, he didn't need any reasons to stay. But the boy’s huge, imploring eyes had already stolen Herc’s heart. He wanted to take care of Lafayette, to protect him.  _ You didn't want any friends, and this kid is going to end up the best one you’ve ever had Just watch.  _

 

“Tonight was fun.” He eventually consented, grinning at Laf. “I've never played Candyland drunk before.”

 

“Really? I've never played it sober.”

 

Soon Alexander showed up, another force of nature that drew people in against their will, and quickly caught up with them on their level of alcohol consumed. 

 

Herc had woken up on the floor, the other two sprawled out beside him, and had gained two friends harder to shake than a tumor. Alex literally never stopped texting him, and he was never safe from Lafayette just showing up at his dorm room. 

 

These people, Lafayette, had become his family.

 

“I was told Gilbert Lafayette was here. I'm Hercules Mulligan.” He panted at the front desk, and the nurse filled him in on his best friend’s injuries as she lead him to the room. 

 

He saw Washington slip out the door as he entered, two policeman waiting to escort the tall man away, but Herc’s curiosity evaporated at the sight of Laf, his unpredictable little frenchman, looking so small in a hospital bed. 

 

“Herc.” Laf squeaked, and immediately began to cry. 

 

Hercules rushed over to his bedside, ignoring the still chattering nurse, and grabbed his hand with both of his.

 

“Laf hey, hey. It's okay. I'm here. I got you.” Hercules Mulligan didn't cry. But neither did Lafayette, and the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks shattered something inside Herc.

 

“Hercules, I was so afraid. Everything happened so fast.”

 

“Don't think about it.” Herc ran a hand soothingly over his hair. “It's over now. You're safe.”

 

“I'm so glad you're here.” He whispered, eyes fluttering closed, hand going limp.

 

“What's wrong with him?” Herc snapped at a nurse.

 

“The pain medicine is very strong. It'll be normal for him to drift in and out of consciousness.”

 

“But he's okay? It's not, fatal or anything?” She smiled.

 

“Not at all. He'll just need to rest. We're also recommending a therapist, as attacks can be very traumatic.”

 

Herc looked down at the now sleeping Laf, trying to picture somebody who could ever want to hurt him.  _ I will kill them. I will literally kill them. _

 

“Herc,” He mumbled sleepily, and Hercules squeezed his hand tighter.

 

“I'm here. I'm right here.”

 

“Will you call Alex...and John. Please.” His voice was faint, as if he were sleep talking, and Herc nodded, immediately pulling out his phone.

 

“Would you like one of our staff to make the call?” The nurse was staring at him with concern and Herc realized he must still be crying. He shook his head.

 

“No thank you. Could I just be alone with him, please?” 

 

She left the room and Hercules immediately dialed his friends, refusing to stop until one of them answered, holding tight to Laf’s unmoving hand.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mr. Hamilton? Mr. Laurens?” 

 

Alex didn't even realize he had fallen asleep until he felt a nurse shaking him awake. A male nurse, with beautiful blue eyes.  _ Well hello. _

 

“Mr. Lafayette asked for both of you, and the doctors think it would be okay if you all three went in, considering he has no family here.” Alex remembered where they were, shaking away any flirtatious thoughts.

 

“We are his family.” He said with mild sharpness, sitting up and yawning. He didn't have much fight left in him, he just wanted to see Laf.

 

“All three?” John asked, giving his hand a squeeze.  _ Were we holding hands when I fell asleep? _

 

“Another boy is with him now. I can take you to them, this way.”

 

They walked down a low lit hallway behind the nurse, Alex’s unease palpable in the air. He was grateful that John didn't let go of his hand, grateful especially because he knew he had been kindof a dick lately.

 

The pretty boy nurse opened a door near the end of the hall and Alex first saw Hercules, chair pressed as close against the bed as was possible, then his eyes adjusted to the image of Laf.

 

“You should see the other guy.” Lafayette teased, grinning weakly, and Alex let out a pained gasp, rushing over.

 

“What happened? What hurts? Laf,  _ who did this? _ ”

 

The nurse nodded at John and left the room, shutting the door behind him. All three boys huddled in close around Lafayette, each stroking or holding some part of him, and he let out a long sigh. 

 

“Well, gather round children. I’m awake now that my drugs are wearing off. I'll tell you the tale of my battle wounds.” He stretched and cringed, the others flinching at his pain. “God I would  _ kill _ for a joint right now.”

 

“Second we get out buddy.” John promised, patting his shoulder. “Now tell us who to kill.”

 

Lafayette repeated the story slowly, having to pause every couple of minutes to answer rapid fire questions or wait for exclamations of fury to die down. Alex knew Laf loved attention, and he wished it were under different circumstances. Maybe one day they could all laugh at this memory, it could become another joke. But in this moment, all he wanted was to watch Charles Lee bleed. 

 

“Wait, I don't understand. Why were you going to Washington’s office so late anyway?” John asked, and Alex watched Laf and Herc exchange a look of understanding that lasted a millisecond.  _ I need to talk to Washington. _

 

“He's been helping me study.” Laf picked at his bed sheets. “You know how I have trouble retaining history about Americans. He's always so patient with me. And now,” His voice wavered, the sound feeling like scalding water was being poured on Alex. “He's going to be fired. Because of me.”

 

“It's not your fault.” Herc said hoarsely, a perfect mirror of John’s promise to Alex earlier in the night.  _ Oh Laf, we are the same. We are lucky to have these boys loving us.  _ “It's nobody's fault except for that fucking scum Lee and his cronies.”

 

“My roommate was there.” John sounded detached, Alex took his arm with his free hand. “Samuel Seabury is my roommate. God, I've been  _ living _ with him.”

 

“Did they honestly think they could get away with beating the shit out of a  _ professor? _ ” Alex stood up to pace, grateful his hair was pulled back or he may have been tearing it out. “With a fucking pipe or crowbar or whatever. What were they  _ thinking _ ?”

 

“ _ Je ne sais pas _ ,” Laf shrugged helplessly. “Maybe they would have killed him.”

 

“Maybe they would've killed  _ you. _ ” John said quietly, and a heavy silence enveloped the room. 

 

“They didn't.” Laf said after several heartbeats. “I'm alive. And I'm not even that hurt. Just no rough sex for like a month.”

 

“However will you resist?” Alex’s joke was forced, and so was their laughter, but it eased the tension in the room. It felt good to fake normalcy, to pretend that their safe space hadn't been violated in the worst way.  _ One of our own, one of us. _

 

The door creaked open slightly, and the same nurse peeked his head through, eyes flickering to Alex before focusing on Laf.

 

“There's another boy here to see you, if you're up for another visitor.” Alex furrowed his brow in confusion.

 

“We didn't call anyone else Laf, honest.”

 

“I uh, might have asked Herc to text one other person.” He smiled sheepishly and nodded to the nurse as Thomas fucking Jefferson walked into the room. 

 

To his credit, he didn't saunter in with his usual swagger, instead immediately rushing to Laf’s side. He had the good sense not to sit near Alex, at the very least, who was managing to bite his tongue.

 

“Was it a hate crime?” Thomas blurted, reaching for Laf’s hand but finding Herc wasn't about to let go. “Was it race based? I could get those bastards beyond just expulsion. I want them in  _ prison _ .”

 

“Good to see you Thomas.” Alex could almost forgive Jefferson for being such an asshole purely from the relaxed look on Laf’s face.  _ If my enemy is my best friend’s friend, does that make us acquaintances? _

 

“I'm so glad you're okay. And Angelica wanted me to tell you she loves you so much.”

 

Alex bristled, momentarily tuning both of them out as he remembered what Eliza had told him.  _ This is all too overwhelming for one day. That creep better be fucking good to Angelica.  _

 

“- and I'm going to throw the biggest party of the fucking year for you the second you're back on your feet. It'll seriously go down in history.” Thomas promised, and Laf beamed from ear to ear.

 

“Ah, I will be the belle of the ball. A party in my honor.” 

 

The two chittered away about the rager they were planning, and Alex tugged John’s jacket.

 

“Can we talk outside for a minute?” He whispered, tilting his head towards the door, and John nodded.

 

“Hey, we’ll be right back.” John gave Laf’s arm a tight squeeze, leaning down to tenderly kiss his forehead, before they slipped into the hall.

 

“So,” Alex immediately turned to face John once the door clicked shut, letting his rage boil to the surface. “What the fuck are we gonna do to Lee?”

 

“Fucking kill him.” John snarled, fury matching Alex’s. “Kill all of them, starting with my shitty roommate.”

 

“Speaking of, I don't want you sleeping there.” Worry washed over him. “It's not safe. I don't trust him.” John nodded.

 

“I could stay with Nathan. He-”

 

“You can stay with  _ us _ .” Alex glared at him. “Stay with Laf and I, he  _ needs _ you. This isn't an opportunity for you to make out with your little sasquatch.” John shoved him.

 

“Shut up Alex. You don't even know him.”

 

“I don't want to know him.”

 

“Alexander.” John suddenly spoke gently, Alex softening at his tone. “I  _ like _ him. Shouldn't that be enough for you?” Alex ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply.

 

“I'm sorry John. You know I just don't think anyone is good enough for you. And I don't like the idea of you spending all your time with someone else. I wouldn't know what to do with myself.”

 

“Maybe,” John nudged him. “You could spend the time I'm not around with Eliza.”

 

The jealousy in John’s voice was prominent, and Alex felt a familiar warmth from the way John’s eyes were fixated on me.  _ Just tell me John. Speak how you feel. _

 

Alex wanted to hear John profess his love, he  _ craved  _ it, and wanted to hear the sweet words of John’s heart before they vanished forever. Before he stopped loving Alex. 

 

“I guess.” Alex answered quietly, wondering how John looked at Nathan.

 

“Anyway, I guess I should sleep in your dorm room. To be with Laf. But I'm staying here for the night.”

 

“Oh, me too.” Alex nodded eagerly. “I'm not leaving his side until he's discharged. I'll miss the whole semester if I have to.” John rolled his eyes fondly.

 

“Drama queen. The nurse said he could go home in a couple days.” They smiled at each other lightly, and John sighed. “Alex, I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Nathanael. Honestly. I didn't know it would upset you this much.”

 

“No, you shouldn't have to tell me. I've been...selfish.” Alex stepped forward, closing the distance between them. “I guess I just wanted you all to myself.”  

 

He heard John’s breath hitch, watched the way his eyes filled with hope and pain. He instinctively leaned in closer, that look drawing him like a moth to a flame, only for both to jump backwards when the door swung open.

 

“Hey guys.” Herc sounded tired. “He's good with Thomas right now, and the nurse said we should take shifts with him so he doesn't get overwhelmed.”

 

“He hasn't met Laf.” John chuckled, and Alex tossed the keys to his dorm at him.

 

“I'll go first. You two go home and get some sleep. Lord knows I don't need it.”

 

“No Alex. I want to-”John’s protest was cut off by his yawn, to which Alex only raised his eyebrows, and John nodded in defeat. 

 

Herc motioned for both of them to come close, and then wrapped them in an enormous, crushing hug, that almost made Alex tear up.

 

“Hey, I love you guys.” Herc said, and Alex closed his eyes, holding them both fiercely. 

 

“I love you too.” John said.

 

“Yeah.” Alex opened his eyes and found himself staring into John’s. “I love you too.”

 

The two left together, John leaning tiredly on Herc’s arm, and Alex watched them disappear down the hall.

 

“Hey.” Cute nurse was back. Alex hadn't even noticed him entering the room again, but he now leaned out the doorway. “Alex right?”

 

“Yeah. Does Laf need me?”

 

“Oh, no. He’s okay.” The nurse stepped all the way out, standing tall before Alex. “I just uh...I’m Henry.”  _ Oh my god, is he coming on to me? _

 

“Hey Henry.” The nurse was very cute, but Alex’s mind was swimming with John’s dark eyes, staring at him like he was the world. 

 

It occurred to Alexander that he had no idea what he wanted. 

 

“Listen, I know it's a weird time, and probably really inappropriate to ask, but-”

 

The door opened again, and Alex had never before in his life been grateful to see Thomas Jefferson.

 

“Hey Hamilton, he ordered me to go get some sleep. So your shift is up.”  _ God, who put Thomas on the rotation? _ And he internally smacked himself.  _ Lafayette did, you selfish bastard. _

 

_ “ _ Maybe later Henry.” He smiled apologetically and slipped into the room, Laf staring at the ceiling.

 

“I had no idea being a damsel in distress was so  _ boring _ . My room doesn't even have a television. Isn't there like, a  _ law _ about that? I could die of boredom. What if I lose contact with the outside world?”

 

“I think you'll last two days Laf.” Alex sat down beside him, relieved that his friend was still in high spirits. “Are you okay Laf? Really?”

 

“Alex, I no longer want to talk about it.” The fear in Laf’s face was uncharacteristic, and Alex resolved to beat the shit out of Charles once Laf was out of here. “Talk to be about something else. Normal shit. Take my mind off of it.”

 

“Uh, well okay.” Alex didn't meet Laf’s eyes. “I need some advice.”

 

“On what,  _ mon petite ami _ ?” Laf sat up excitedly.

  
“I think I want John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ne soyez pas ridicule=dont be ridiculous
> 
> Je ne sais pas= I don't know
> 
> mon petite ami=my small friend


	5. Chapter 5

Lafayette hit Alex over the head with his pillow.

 

“You  _ asshole,” _ He hit him again. “What do you mean you think you want John?” Alex held up his hands in self defence.

 

“I don't know Laf it's just….all this time I never thought about him like that. I knew he likes me, but….oh I don't know. I'm just wondering what it would be like. To be with your best friend.” Laf sighed at the sincerity in Alex’s voice but his expression remained stern. 

 

“Alex, you don't want John.” Laf rubbed the space between his eyebrows. “Think about it, you have never desired him a day in your life, then suddenly he's with somebody else and you want him?”

 

“Yeah but,” Alex fidgeted in his seat. “Maybe him being with that  _ Nathan _ guy just made me realize what I was missing.” He practically snarled the name.

 

“Or maybe,” Laf arched an eyebrow. “You are jealous because you enjoy his adoration, and you know you'll be losing it.” Alex opened his mouth to protest but Laf held up a hand. “Look Alex, you and I both know that you are selfish,  _ oui?  _ You just want him all to yourself. And he's with somebody else now. Do  _ not _ fuck with his feelings or his new relationship just because it's causing you to go through some sort of crisis.”

 

“But Laf what if-”

 

“No,” Lafayette shook his head. “No what ifs. He has been in love with you for almost  _ three years _ , Alex. And you have just soaked up his love and given back nothing in return. You don't  _ get _ to think you want him now. He didn't  _ think,  _ he  _ knew _ he wanted you. Now it's fine that you never liked him in return, the heart wants what the heart wants, nobody blames you for not feeling the same. But  _ don't you dare _ ruin his attempts to get over you to satisfy some curiosity.”

 

“You make me sound like such an ass.” Alex joked halfheartedly, staring down at his shoes, and Laf placed a hand over his own.

 

“Alex, I don't think you're a bad person. But I know you. If you really and sincerely think you feel for John what he feels for you, then you'll leave him alone. Real love is not selfish. Don't tell him any of this, you'll confuse him and probably ruin what him and Nathan have going. And,” Laf tightened his grip on Alex’s hand. “If you  _ did _ get him to end his relationship for you, then decided you  _ didn't  _ want him, that all you wanted was your worshipper back, he would never forgive you.”

 

“That's true.” Alex said quietly, and Laf pulled his hand away, breathing deeply.

 

“And neither would I.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next week was an unpredictable blur, even by the standards of Alex’s sporadic schedule. For the first time in his life, he didn't go to a single one of his classes, and didn't work on a single project. All of their time was devoted to taking shifts by Lafayette’s side, visiting him, or sleep and crashing at Eliza’s.

 

After that first night, when Herc had returned at five in the morning, he had gone straight to Eliza’s, knocking sheepishly on her door.

 

_ She's probably asleep. Why are you just now realizing this? Idiot. You fucking idiot. _

 

But she answered relatively quickly, hair messy and mascara smeared and so beautiful it took his breath away.

 

“Liza,” He smiled at her helplessly. “Sorry I'm so late.”

 

“Angelica told me about Lafayette.” She held out her arms to him. “Oh Alex, I'm so sorry.”

 

He collapsed into her, holding her tightly, and feeling the warmth and security of a thousand blankets. 

 

“Eliza, I can't imagine anyone hurting him. I don't….I don't get it.”

 

“Come inside Alexander.” She pulled him in and they sat on the bed, her rubbing his shoulders and humming softly. “You haven't slept have you?” He snorted.

 

“I wasn't kidding when I said that I never sleep. Even if I wanted too, now I'm too worried about Laf. I'll be too anxious to even close my eyes.”

 

“Well,” Her voice was stern and she pulled away slightly to look at him. “I want you to try.”

 

“Eliza-”

 

“Alexander.” Her eyes, the ones he drowned in daily, were tolerating no nonsense. He sighed.

 

“Only if you cuddle with me.”

 

“Oh.” She went from fear inspiring to flustered in an instant, her cheeks a soft pink. “Of course, all right. I didn't sleep much either. My roommate kept me out all night.”

 

“Where is she now?” Alex asked, his eyelids growing heavy the second his head touched the pillow. She laid down next to him and tentatively leaned into him.

 

“She went home with some older woman. They both walked me home first, it was sweet.” Alex wrapped his arms around her, their breathing in sync. 

 

“That is sweet. Sorry I couldn't be with you last night.”

 

“Just sleep Alex.” Her voice was hazy and he nodded, letting himself doze off intertwined in her arms, willing himself into dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, John?”

 

John looked up at Nathanel, yawning lazily. He had taken to coming over right after hospital visits with Laf, sneaking in as much time as he could without upsetting the emotionally fragile Alex.  _ You'd think I'm cheating on him or something, the way he gets when I mention Nathan.  _ Although, John was hardly hanging out with him for fun. He crashed there when Alex was in the hospital or with Eliza, keeping Nathan updated and sleeping. When Alex wasn't with Laf, he wanted to be with John. They would sit awake in his dorm, pretending nothing was wrong while the empty bed across from them remained in the fringes of their consciousness just by existing. 

 

Unlike Alex, John was accustomed to an average sleep schedule. He would stay up late, like any college student, but always maintained an average of at least six hours a night. The only exceptions were when he had to babysit Alex and try to force him to eat or stop working and relax. Usually John won, with his soft words and gentle coaxing. But sometimes it was Alex, with his sharp speech and stubborn willpower. On those nights John would simply stay awake with him, replacing the blood in his veins with coffee the next day.

 

He didn't sleep at all the day Lafayette was first admitted. Alex had sent him home and he had truly intended to sleep, he wanted to be awake and present when he was next with Laf. But the second he was back on campus, the light of the lamps casting an eerie yellow glow and heightening the emptiness, he had shivered.

 

“I can't go back to my dorm.” He had said to Herc, both unmoving in the car. “Even if Samuel isn't there...I can't sleep.” He couldn't explain it, but he felt  _ afraid. _ As if all along there really had been monsters lurking in the shadows, and now that he knew of their presence, they were waiting for him.

 

“You could stay with me.” Herc offered. “My roommate is there, but I can sleep on the floor. Or we could share the bed.”  _ Like he does with Laf. _ John could tell Herc was thinking it, and he shook his head.

 

“No I...I think I'll stay with Nathan. Just for the night.” He added, remembering how upset Alex had been at the idea. “You should sleep, I know I can't.” 

 

“Let me walk you.” Herc said and John nodded, feeling fear so strong it was almost paralyzing as he stepped out of the car.

 

john tortoise: hey um, idk if you're awake or not, but would it be cool if i came over?

 

Nathan replied almost instantly.

 

nate the great: of course! Are you okay?

 

john tortoise: not really. I just don't wanna be alone right now.

 

nate the great: I'll be outside waiting for you okay?

 

Nathanael had been there for him that night, in fact he had been there for him almost every night since. John felt completely comfortable in his presence, something he hasn't experienced with anyone outside his little trio in a very long time. 

 

“What's up?” John asked, pausing the laptop screen to look at him. They'd been watching The Office, John liked to fall asleep to white noise.

 

“Can I...can I ask you something?” John felt suddenly wide awake at his nervous tone.

 

“Of course Nathan, what is it?” John tried to shake his feeling of dread and Nathan rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“I know this is probably a stupid question, but should I be worried about your friend Alex?” John stared at him blankly, dumbstruck, and Nathan continued nervously. “I-I just mean that he seemed to really dislike me when we met. Almost as if he was jealous.”

 

“He gets jealous when his friends meet new people, he just likes to have all our time to himself.” John answered but the words sounded hollow, floating around in the space between them but not making sense. 

 

“He seemed jealous because he likes you John.” Nathan’s voice was all softness, not condescending, and John let out a sigh.

 

“We just...have a weird relationship. We’re close, and he doesn't want to lose that.”

 

“So I have nothing to worry about?” Nathan tilted John’s head to look at him, eyes full of nothing but concern. “You can be honest with me.”

 

“What are you asking?” John felt slightly annoyed and Nathan looked even more embarrassed.

 

“I'm sorry. I know this is a weird question to ask, and I would never want to make you uncomfortable…but do you have feelings for him?”

 

John's mouth felt dry, more dry than smoking or going without water had ever made it. Nathan was just looking at him with those beautiful colored eyes, so full of trust. And fear. John sighed.

 

“Yes, I do.” He dared to meet Nathanael’s gaze. “But I swear my feelings for you are real, and I am  _ not  _ just trying to get over him through you. I really like you.” He placed his hands over the other boy’s, risking a shy smile. “And I really like being with you.”

 

“I believe you.” Nathan smiled in return weakly. “John, you have to understand. I adore you.” John gulped at his tender tone. “I think the world of you. You are kind and sweet and  _ amazing _ . But I don't want to be wasting my time.”

 

“You aren't.” John promised and Nathan looked at their intertwined fingers.

 

“Well what if...what if Alex decided he liked you in return? Then what?”

 

“I'm with you.” John gently tilted the boy’s head to look at him. “You don't have to worry about that. Even if somehow in a million Alex wanted me, I’d choose you.”

 

“Really?” He whispered, smile growing steadily.

 

“I promise.” John said, with enough conviction that he almost believed himself.

 

* * *

 

  
  
Alexander wasn't in class, so it took him several days to discover the gossip circulating around Lafayette.

 

Lafayette and Washington.

 

It started in the food court. He'd stopped by to grab a quick coffee, run by Eliza’s, then ride with Herc to the hospital to so John could sleep. Or maybe it was Thomas. He couldn't remember, he couldn't be bothered these days. He felt exhaustion in his bones, the abuse of his body in regards to sleep after all these years was finally catching up to him.  _ It must be the emotional strain that's breaking me, I've gone a week on six hours of sleep before, and I've never felt like this. _

 

“One large iced coffee please, with two shots of espresso, and a large chai tea.” He slowly drew out the bills from his wallet, the hum of the students around him strangely soothing, when the conversation of two boys behind him caught his attention.

 

“- just saying that everyone knows that he sleeps around. And that office hours, and the building, close at five.”

 

“Yeah but it's  _ Washington _ man. Even Lafayette couldn't crack him. He won't even come to student rallies because he's such a hardass.”

 

“Excuse me,” Alex turned around, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. “But can I ask what you guys are talking about?” The first voice, a tall stocky boy, answered him.

 

“That student who got jumped by Lee for being in Washington’s office, I don't know if you heard about it but-”

 

“I did.” Alex snapped. “Lafayette is my friend. I just wanted to know what exactly you were implying about him.” They exchanged nervous glances. 

 

“Look,” The second boy, slightly smaller, smiled at him apologetically. “It's just...people are talking. About why your friend was there after office hours in the first place. N-not saying he asked for it or anything.” He held up his hands defensively at Alex’s sharp look. “No, everybody hates Lee anyway, nobody blames your friend. People just suspect…”

 

“Suspect what?” He didn't realize he had raised his voice, but he was suddenly aware of people staring.  _ Cool it Alex, don't make a scene. _

 

“Sir?” He turned around to face the barista. “Your change. And your drinks will be ready at that window over there.” He nodded and turned around again, but the boys had left. He spotted them speed walking away through the crowd, heads close together murmuring rapidly.

 

He forgot about it in his drowsy haze until the next day, when John caught his arm in the hospital hallway.

 

“Hey, can I talk to you?” John’s eyes were sincere and worried, and Alex shivered at the force of them.  _ Remember what Laf said, don't be a selfish bastard. You like Eliza, this is just jealousy and you need to get over it. _

 

“What's up?” Alex stifled a yawn, eager to get home and sleep for a glorious full eight hours.  _ That's a first. _

 

“Have you...have you been hearing anything weird lately? About Laf? Laf and…”

 

“Washington.” Alex felt alert suddenly, alert and cold all over. John nodded.

 

“I went to trig yesterday and before class started a lot of kids were saying that they had heard...Laf and the professor…” He trailed off helplessly, as if hoping Alex would finish again, but the latter only looked at him intensely. “Were sleeping together. That's why he was there so late.”

 

“God,” Alex took a deep breath. “That kind of talk will kill Washington’s career. And his case. If Lee walks out of this…”

 

“He won't.” John put his hand on the back of Alex’s neck, unaware of his own affect. “If he doesn't get expelled, we will kill him. In fact, after all this is over, we’ll kill him anyway.”

 

“I gotta talk to Washington.” Alex shook his head and stepped away from John. He needed to think clearly right now, and this boy was the prime factor in keeping him from doing so. “I have to know if….if Laf’s defense is in trouble.”

 

“Wait, do you think it could be true?” Alex remembered the way Laf had looked at Herc when they mentioned Washington, the panic in his eyes. 

 

“I don't know. But I have to talk to Washington.”

 

“Promise me you'll sleep first.” John said softly, and Alex wondered how he had managed to have two people in the world care about him so much, worry about his sleep habits so much.  _ You have more than two, Lafayette always looks out for you. You need to look out for him right now. _

 

“I promise.” Alex assured him, rubbing one of John’s curls between his fingers. “You do the same.”

 

True to his word, Alexander had slept the entire night through, and woke up with surprising spryness.  _ Maybe there’s more to a full night’s sleep than I thought.  _ With fresh determination, he headed towards the old and looming building where Washington’s office was.

 

It was unnerving, the way his footsteps echoed down the well lit but empty hallway. Lafayette had walked these steps only four days ago, he had been here alone and probably afraid.  _ Lafayette fears nothing. _ Alex tried to reassure himself but it was bullshit, anybody would have been terrified. Even the most reckless of them all.

 

The door was shut and Alex opened it tentatively, not bothering to knock.

 

“Professor?” 

 

The man looked tired. Alexander had used to be a sort of volunteer teacher’s assistant to Washington, staying after class and coming in to help the professor grade and to rant to the man about whatever topic held his fury. Washington always looked like he hadn't gotten sufficient sleep, particularly when Alex got heated in a certain topic.

 

But not like this.

 

“Alexander.” The man sighed, smiling weakly but genuinely. “Come in son. How are you? How is Gilbert?” For a split second Alex had no idea who he meant.

 

“Oh Laf? He's alright. They could release him tomorrow but to be honest, I think he'll stay an extra day just for the drama of it all. He loves being doted on.” Alex tried to keep his tone light, taking a seat in front of the man’s desk. “How are you?”

 

“As long as my heart's still beating in my chest, I'm okay.” He shuffled some papers around as he spoke, scribbling down various notes. “Did you come down here to ask me something or to check up on the old man?”

 

“Both.” Alex squirmed slightly. He hadn't planned this far ahead. He knew he had to be here, but he didn't know how to formulate the words. “Sir…”

 

“Yes Alex?” Washington didn't look up, glasses hanging low off his nose.

 

“I've been hearing some things sir. About you and Lafayette.” The words hung in the air like an off key note; sour and tangent. Washington looked up at him, hands stilling.

 

“What kinds of things, son?” His tone was neutral and Alex studied his shoes.

 

“The rumor is that you two….were  _ close _ .” Alex hoped the man didn't make him elaborate. He might die of embarrassment if he had to say it.

 

“So what are you asking me Alexander?” He looked at Washington but his expression was unreadable. Expectant.

 

“I need to know sir,” He paused to take a breath. “If it's true.”

 

“Do you believe it is?” This time his mask of indifference was breaking, tones of hurt slipping through the cracks.

 

“That doesn't matter.” Alex stared at him. “Is it?”

 

“This sounds like a discussion that needs to be had between you and your friend Alex.” Washington stood up, grabbing some files from a tall shelf, reminding Alex how painfully small he felt. “I don't have time for rumors.”

 

“You aren't telling me it isn't true.” Alex’s voice broke and Washington closed his eyes.

 

“Alex, it is not true. Gilbert and I never acted on anything intimate. I am a professional.”

 

“And you never felt anything for him then?” Alex prompted further, always pushing despite the warning signs, ignoring Washington's obvious pain.

 

“Go home Alexander.” The professor snapped. “I will not satisfy your selfish curiosity while I have a defense to be planning for Gilbert’s sake, for the sake of  _ your friend. _ If you believe any of what you hear to be true, ask him. I am not your peer, I am over twenty years your senior, I am a professor.” His hard tone softened, and he mumbled almost to himself. “You boys would be better off remembering that.”

 

* * *

 

 

Lafayette did not like being told what he could and could not handle. 

 

Thomas Jefferson had promised him a party. He had been out of the hospital three days and after being babied by his well meaning but  _ suffocating _ friends, he was more than ready to get incredibly drunk and forget any of this had ever happened.

 

“Thomas throws parties every other week.” Alex fidgeted in the shirt Laf had picked out for him, doing that thing Laf hated where he bounced from foot to foot and spoke a million words a minute, still not quick enough to translate his thoughts as they hit him. “Do you  _ have _ to go to this one tonight? I don't even want to go. I could stay here with you all night. We could invite Eliza. It'd be fun.”

 

“Alexander.” Laf placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders, holding him still. “ _ I  _ want to go. I have been cooped up in a bed beyond what is essential to my health for far too long. I am not traumatized. I want to have fun.”

 

Lafayette loved his friends, he truly did. But it felt as though he were the caretaker, constantly reassuring them that no, he wasn’t in pain and no, he wasn’t crying himself to sleep or anything so drastic. He hadn't had a second to himself since waking up in the hospital, the three of them hanging over him like he was on his deathbed. And when he had been discharged it had been no better. Hercules had insisted on carrying him back to the dorm room.  _ Carrying  _ him.

 

_ I adore being the center of attention, but I need to disappear into a crowd for a night. _

 

“Besides,” Laf continued, returning his attention to his reflection and expertly combing back his hair. “Won't Eliza be there?”

 

“No.” Alex grumbled. “She wants to stay back and study.”

 

“You could stay with her you know.”

 

“Laf the party is in your honor.” The boy grinned at him. “Think I would miss a chance to get drunk in the name of Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette?” Lafayette kissed his cheek.

 

“I am touched whenever you manage to remember all that. Come,” He patted Alex’s arm. “My celebration awaits.”

 

Alex smiled at him once again, then hesitated in the doorway.

 

“Hey Laf? Can I ask you something?” 

 

“Anything  _ mon cher _ ,” Laf tilted his head, concerned with the worry furrowing Alex’s brow. “Are you thinking about John again?”

 

“No I...uh, yeah. John.” Alex looked galaxies away. 

 

“Forget about it for one night Alexander.” Lafayette tried to hide the annoyance from his tone.

 

He had received an message that morning from some school sanctioned email, wishing him a steady recovery and politely but firmly inviting him to a hearing Monday evening with several board members. The email told him to be prepared to recount his testimony of “the incident” and left no room for refusal. Nobody had to tell him George’s career was on the line, that was clear.

 

He hadn't seen George since almost a week ago in the hospital. It really wasn't that much time, but his time in the hospital felt so endless that it seemed to be much longer. 

 

It simply wasn't fair. He was just a college kid with a crush, and he might cost his beloved professor everything.  _ George would be better off if I had never taken such an interest in him. No, if he had never met me. _

 

And then here was Alexander, once again making everything about him and what he thought that he wanted. 

 

“Okay,” Alex shook his head and grinned, the over eager, self assured look he always wore back in it's its proper place. “It's forgotten. Let's go.”

 

* * *

 

 

Angelica tossed her head back, the whiskey burning her throat and warming the spaces between her ribs as she slammed the empty shot glass down on the bathroom sink. Swaying, she watched her own reflection, staring deeply into her dark eyes. She was measuring herself up with such intensity that she didn't notice the handsome reflection appear behind her, sporting a dark blue collared shirt to perfectly match her dress.

 

“Hey,” Thomas placed a hand on her shoulder, making her jump. “Are you alright?”

 

“Why do you ask?” She turned around, tempted to wipe her lips off on the back of her hand but not wanting to smear her lipstick. He frowned. 

 

“Well, it's not even midnight yet and you've had a lot to drink.” She laughed hoarsely.

 

“Party boy Thomas is concerned that I'm drinking too much.” The music thumped loudly behind the closed door, beckoning her back in. He stepped closer and the roaring sound seemed to fade out.

 

“Angelica I'm not trying to police how you act. I just think-”

 

“Think what?” She demanded a little too loudly, placing a hand on his chest to steady herself. He sighed.

 

“You've been avoiding me all night Angelica. It's obvious you don't want to be seen with me, and it's even more obvious that the only way you'll allow yourself to be is when you're shitfaced drunk.” He snapped and she narrowed her eyes.

 

“We aren't dating Thomas. I don't owe you shit.” He gave her a long look and then let out another sigh, stepping backwards. 

 

“You're right Angelica. What the fuck was I thinking?”

 

He stepped out and slammed the door, forcing her to turn around and face the very tipsy girl in the mirror once again.  _ What the fuck are you doing? _

 

Ever since the beginning of this little fling, Thomas had been continuously surprising her. 

 

On their first “date” they had gone out for coffee, and stayed out unexpectedly late talking. Angelica had always assumed he was a pompous ass, and she was not wrong. However, she was surprised that he was actually intelligent underneath his layers upon layers of pretentiousness. And he was pretty good at listening, paying rapt attention to her various tangents and even offering insightful remarks. He was no Alexander, filled with rage and a need to have the final word, but he was not passive either. His arguments were delivered in a soft spoken tone and were devastating. She, of course, thought he was an idiot whenever he disagreed with her, but respected him nonetheless.

 

“Jesus,” She had checked her watch, the tables around them long since having cleared out. “I didn't realize it was so late.”

 

“Neither had I.” He sounded equally surprised, and they both looked at one another until finally he cleared his throat. “I uh, I don't feel ready to leave.”

 

“Me either.” She replied honestly, and a cocky grin tugged at his mouth.

 

“How about we go for a little night swim?” She blinked incredulously.

 

“You mean the beach?” He nodded and she continued to stare. “They close at like, six Thomas.”.

 

“Eh, I thought it would be fun.” He shrugged casually. “But if you aren't interested…” His tone was challenging, obviously baiting her, and she crossed her arms.

 

“Well hold on, when did I say I wouldn't do it?” 

 

“There's that famous wild Schuyler.” He winked and they had driven his car up to the nearest shore, parking a significant distance down as not to be caught, the bright lights of the city burning behind them.

 

“Can't believe a rich little boy like you is sneaking illegally onto government property.” She teased when they finally reached the sand. Both had opted to leave their shoes in the car, so the soft ground was a relief from the gravel.

 

“Can't believe a girl with such a rich father is out with said troublemaker past bedtime.” He retorted, and the night was dark and thick like a blanket but she could hear his smile.

 

The two heard the water before they saw it, the lapping of the waves,and felt it on their toes even as they were blinking the water into focus. It was so black out that the ocean and sky seemed to blend together into emptiness, Angelica could only tell where the earth began from the twinkling lights of the distant ferries. 

 

“This is surprisingly pretty.” She admitted and he hummed in agreement. 

 

“Usually the beach at night is semi crowded, I like how empty it feels.” There were other people along the sand but they were off a considerable distance, just shapes on the dark.

 

“Oh,” She turned to face him with a mockingly  accusatory tone. “So you bring all your little toys to the beach at night? Is this your move or something?”

 

“No.” He turned to face her and Angelica didn't know if it was the darkness or his expression that made him unreadable. She shivered under his gaze, suddenly aware that if he were to kiss her right now, she would be very okay with it.

 

“Wanna get in the water?” He asked after a long pause, and she stared blankly at him.

 

“Wait, you were serious about swimming?” In response he began to remove his shirt and she scoffed. “That water is going to be like thirty degrees. This isn't the fucking Titanic.”

 

He stripped down to his underwear, clothes in a neat pile at his feet, and winked at her.

 

“See you in there Rose.”

 

He ran in and she watched from beyond the reach of the tide, arms crossed, and scowled as his silhouette ducked beneath the waves and resurfaced, hollering obnoxiously.

 

“It n-not that cold!” He called through chattering teeth and she rolled her eyes.

 

“You are going to catch hypothermia and then where will your smug ass be? I sure as hell won't bring you Nyquil.”

 

“Come warm me up then.” He shouted and there it was again, the obvious challenge in his tone. 

 

_ Does he think I'm really going to get in because he dared me to? _ She glared at the waves and then groaned aloud, deftly removing her shirt and skirt and putting them on top of his clothes.  _ Fine but let it never be said that Angelica Schuyler backs down. _

 

She stepped into the water, letting it lap at her knees, and shivered. It was so cold it was piercing, but not as piercing as Thomas’ eyes on her. She shook her head and waded further into the water until she was waist deep and standing in front of him, skin prickling with goosebumps. 

 

“Nope,” Thomas shook his head. “I got in all the way. You have to dunk your head.”

 

“You're so childish.” She snapped and, glaring at him, took a deep breath and ducked under the waves.

 

She came up almost instantly, gasping at the paralyzing temperature of the water. Thomas clapped slowly, exaggeratedly. 

 

“Well bravo. The cold sea has cured you of your uptightness.” She splashed him.

 

“Funny, it hasn't cured your pompousness.” She moved to hit him and he caught her wrist, tugging her closer.

 

“If you splash me again you'll regret it.” His eyes glinted and, smirking, she used her free hand to smack the freezing water right at his face. “That's it.”

 

He grinned at her wickedly before wrapping his arms around her and then jumping so that both of them were forced underwater and into the next wave. When they resurfaced she shrieked and jerked away.

 

“You ass.” She said but there was no venom in her words, and to her surprise she was laughing. 

 

“You know, I really like you Angelica.” He said after a long moment and she shook her head.

 

“Don't Thomas. Not right now.”

 

“Okay.” He whispered and they stared at each other, standing in the rising tides.

 

Angelica didn't remember who moved forward first, but they were suddenly standing chest to chest. Her eyes had now adjusted completely to the darkness so that she could see the water droplets trickling down his hair to his face, the way his eyes were warming her to her toes despite the ice cold water. 

 

He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers with intensity, wrapping a strong arm around her waist and holding her tight against him. She had immediately snaked her arms around his neck and moved her lips with equal fervor, the kiss already open mouthed and demanding. He ran his hands up and down her back and this time her goosebumps were not from the cold. He pulled back to place several kisses on her neck, sucking at the skin, and she tilted her head back, breathing heavily.

 

A large wave swept their feet out from under them without warning and the two gasped, pulled apart and knocked to the sand, shivering. Both exchanged glances and then laughed, helping one another to their feet.

 

“Well that was….cold.” Thomas said, and Angelica was enchanted by the fact that he had appeared almost nervous. She held out her hand.

 

“C'mon, let's go back to my dorm. I'll really warm you up this time.”

 

That had been nearly two weeks ago, and Angelica had spent nearly every evening with Thomas since then. It had been unintentional, she hadn't planned to actually enjoy his company. She’d just expected to sleep together a couple times until Eliza was thoroughly convinced she had overcome her “love” for Thomas. 

 

Instead, he was constantly broaching the subject of feelings, and attaching meaning to these encounters. And she was constantly shutting him down.

 

_ I have not had nearly enough to drink. _ Her reflection seemed to agree with her. Angelica stepped outside the bathroom and back into the writhing mass of students, heading for the kitchen to pour herself another drink. 

 

She located the vodka quickly and poured herself a disgustingly heavy mixed drink, chugging it down so fast several wide eyed freshman watched her with awe and mild fear.

 

“Lafayette!!” She spotted him across the room and shoved through people to latch onto his jacket unsteadily. “I am  _ so  _ glad to see you.”

 

“The feeling is mutual.” He looked amused and she beamed at him, exchanging her grip on wrist for an arm around his shoulder.

 

“I was...I was so worried about you.”

 

“ _ Chéri _ ,” His eyebrows lifted.  _ He looks so pretty, like a pretty french doll.  _ “How much have you had to drink?” 

 

“Lafayette,” She looked at him intensely, stepping closer. “Don't even  _ listen  _ to the gossip about you and Washington.  _ Nobody _ believes it I  _ promise _ you.” She nodded sincerity and his eyebrows only lifted higher, gaze darkening. 

 

“Angelica, what gossip?”

 

“Who said anything about gossip?” A voice she was a little too happy to hear was suddenly beside them, and she grinned at Alexander’s hazy figure. 

 

“Alex.” She touched his face. “Look at you.” Alex turned to Lafayette, smirking.

 

“How much has she had to drink?”

 

“Alexander,” Lafayette’s tone was hushed. “What have people been saying about me and George? Did you know?” 

 

Angelica watched Alex’s smile drop and she felt her stomach sink, not knowing what was wrong but knowing she had caused it. She pulled both boys closer to her.

 

“Shhh shh.” She ran her hands through their hair, glancing nervously between them. “Let’s not fight. Make love not war.”

 

“What?” Alex’s voice was muffled and Angelica felt a hand on her shoulder gently pull her away.

 

“Hey is she okay?” Thomas spoke to Laf and Alex, not to her, which Angelica found incredibly annoying, as well as his stupid shirt.  _ Why did he insist on matching colors? Does he just want everyone to know we’re sleeping together? _

 

“Oh, it's you.” Her smiled slipped away and he frowned at her. 

 

“C'mon Angelica, let's get you some water.” He said something else to the boys that she didn't catch before dragging her off to the kitchen. “Sit here.” He ordered, pulling out a chair for her, and she let out an exaggerated sigh as she plopped down.

 

“I don't need you to take care of me Thomas.”

 

“Obviously.” He replied dryly, handing her a glass of water. She glared at him as she drank it, him watching sternly to ensure that she finished it.

 

“Can't you just leave me alone for one night?” She slurred as he took the empty glass from her and he rolled his eyes.

 

“I'm not going to do this with you now Angelica. You're drunk and you need to sleep, you can pick a fight with me in the morning.” He held out a hand to help her up and she smacked it away.

 

“I'm not sleeping. I'm going to enjoy the rest of this party.”

 

“You can't even stand straight Angie.”

 

“Its Angelica.” She snapped. “I don't fucking need you to take care of me. You are  _ not _ my boyfriend.” He stared at her as she attempted to stand up, wobbling in her heels.

 

“Fine,  _ Angelica. _ ” She was too intoxicated to analyze his tone, but were she sober she might have detected hints of hurt within the sour. “Just don't throw up on my carpet.”

 

And he left her standing there alone in the kitchen, exactly as she wanted.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey.” Alex had spent almost the entirety of the party searching for John, finally finding him in the backyard, sitting alone on some abandoned yard swing hidden in the shadows. “You look all creepy, out here alone in the dark.”

 

John only raised his eyebrows in reply, mouth glued to the end of his pipe.

 

Alex wasn't much of a smoker, really only partaking at parties, and John was a pothead if he ever saw one. But when John held out the piece and lighter he shrugged and sat down next to him, taking a long hit.

 

He needed it, after the way Lafayette had looked at him like he was a traitor.

 

“Alexander,” He had asked in that defenseless tone. “What have people been saying about me and George? Did you know?”

 

Thomas had dragged off the stumbling Angelica, shyly thanking them both for watching over her, and Laf had turned to Alex with an accusatory stare.

 

“Laf,” Alex looked at him helplessly. “I was going to tell you after tonight. I just wanted you to enjoy yourself.”

 

“You didn't even want me to go.” Lafayette sounded as though he wanted to be angry but was too tired. He took a sip from his cup and gave Alex a sad look. “I wish you would stop trying to protect me Alex.”

 

“I can't help it.” Alex touched his arm. “You're my best friend and it just...it scared me so much that something bad could happen to you.”

 

“It's over Alex.” Laf said quickly, too quickly. “And I just want to forget it.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Just tell me the rumors.” He expectantly raised an eyebrow and Alex sighed.

 

“People seem to think you and Washington were hooking up.” Laf said nothing, sipping at his drink thoughtfully, and Alex finally couldn't resist asking for any longer. “Is it true?”

 

“ _ Excusez-moi? _ ” Laf looked up in surprise and Alex forced himself to meet his gaze.

 

“I- I wouldn't be upset or anything if it was true. I just….wanna know.” Lafayette stared at him for a long time.

 

“No,” He eventually said in that same exhausted tone. “It is not true.”

 

And Alex finally heard the truth in those words,  _ but he wishes it were.  _

 

“I'm going to go socialise some more.” Laf patted his arm as he spoke. “Show people I am alive and still able to dance as slutty as ever.”

 

“Alright. Find me or Herc if you need anything.”

 

Hercules, at any given party, could be found wherever the alcohol was. He was an amazing makeshift bartender, and always had a small crowd around him as he expertly mixed several drinks and fulfilled any orders. 

 

Alexander and him had arrived together, alongside Lafayette, right when the party began, at Laf’s insistence.

 

“Whelp, I'm going to find the bar.” Herc had said and immediately disappeared, apparently far more trusting in Lafayette’s ability to take care of himself than Alex was.

 

The shorter boy had remained by his friend’s side most of night until now, scanning the crowd for John constantly but never managing to locate his curly head. He compensated by getting drunker and drunker once apart from Lafayette and now completely alone in the sea of people.  _ If Angelica Schuyler can get plastered then so can I. _

 

And now he would shortly be crossfaded, he realized as he handed the pipe back to John. 

 

“Where's the tall dude?” He asked after a minute of comfortable silence. The night air felt cool and refreshing from the heat of the house, the silence a welcome escape from how the music pulses through him.

 

“Nathan?” John smiled wryly. “He doesn't know Thomas or Laf so he didn't really feel comfortable coming.”

 

“Ah.” Alex said, and they fell quiet once more.

 

Alex hadn't really been alone with John lately, since before Lafayette was hurt and he met Eliza and Nathan came into the picture and everything got so complicated.. Usually when they spent time together it was to lie awake in Alex’s dorm room, worrying about Lafayette. It had been so easy before, how had he taken it for granted? This felt so nice.

 

The alcohol coursing through his veins helped, of course.

 

“I've missed you.” He said softly, staring up at the stars, and he felt John turn to look at him.

 

“I've missed you too Alex.” His voice was full of tenderness that Alex knew he didn't deserve and he looked down at him, eyes prettier than the night sky.

 

_ Don't do anything selfish.  _ Lafayette’s voice warned him, but a much stronger fear gripped at Alex’s heart, and a much louder voice told him he was running out of time.

 

“John.” He said suddenly, voice loud, and his friend smiled at him fondly. 

 

“I'm right here, you don't need to yell.” John chuckled. “How drunk are you?”

 

“You're right here?” Alex repeated instead of answering, and John stared at him quizzically. “You're always right here, aren't you?”

 

“Alex what are you-”

 

Alex grabbed John’s face and kissed him urgently, feeling the boy gasp against his lips.

 

“Alex-” John breathed without pulling back, voice trembling, and Alex kissed him harder.

 

Alex held his face in his hands softly, thumbs caressing his cheeks, and after an eternity John’s lips moved against his own in return. Alex felt as though electricity was running through his bones, like little lightning bolts were shooting through him and searing his skin at John’s touch. He didn't know if the sweet sigh he heard was from him or John, but it moved him to deepen the kiss, bringing a hand into the tangles of John’s hair that he was so fond of and giving a soft tug.

 

He ran the hand that wasn't buried into John’s hair up the back of his shirt, pressing their bodies together even closer as he traced his palm against John’s spine. All this was only within the span of a few seconds, not nearly long enough, before John very suddenly and very harshly pulled backwards, breaking them apart.

 

Alex’s lips chased him but John only leaned back further, pulling Alex’s hands off of him.

 

“Alex what….what…” He blinked at him, confused and  _ hurt _ and oh no.  _ He isn't supposed to look at me like that. He's supposed to look at me like he loves me. _

 

“John,” He breathed, staring at him and panting hard. “I want you.”

 

“How can you…” John shut his eyes, looking even more pained than before, and Alex had thought those words would take away the sadness in his eyes. Take away the space that was between by their bodies. “How can you say that to me?”

 

“Because it's true.” Alex took John’s hands in his own tightly, ignoring the almost childlike way his friend was staring at him. “I know you feel the same way, and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it, but that kiss felt so right and I-”

 

“You  _ knew? _ ” John pulled his hands away. “You knew how I felt about you all this time? And you would still talk to me the way you do? You would still flirt with me, lead me on?”

 

“John-”

 

“I'm with Nathan.” He said sharply, expression hard but eyes filling with tears. “I'm with somebody else. And you wait until now to tell me this. When you knew all along.”

 

“John please.” Alex begged and John fell silent, giving him a chance to speak. It was only in the face of his friend’s expectant gaze,  _ begging _ him to have an excuse, that he realize he had nothing to say. “I…I didn't realize I felt like this about you. It was only when I saw you with Nathan-”

 

“Alex,” John closed his eyes again, a tear escaping and breaking Alex in half. “You don't want me. You just don't want me to be with someone else. I don't know how you can be so selfish. And I don't know how I never saw it. No, that's a lie. I did see it. I just didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe you were perfect. Maybe that’s my fault.”

 

“ _ John _ .” Alex’s voice was hoarse, full of disbelief.  _ You are meant to be the one person who thinks I'm good. _

 

“Stay away from me Alex.” John stood up with finality. “I'm….I’m with Nathan. He appreciates me. He wouldn't take advantage of my feelings for him.”

 

“I would never do that.” Alex whispered and John whipped around sharply.

 

“Alex,” He said loudly and Alex flinched. “That is what you have  _ always _ done. You knew how I felt. Hell, deep down  _ I  _ knew you knew. And you just played your little game of sleeping around with anybody and then at the end of the day cuddling up next to me, holding  _ me _ until you feel asleep.” Alex felt himself tearing up, the sensation hot and burning in his throat. “It was like a relationship with nothing for me to get out of it. I loved you and loved you and loved you and you just sucked my resources dry. And only when I find someone who actually wants me in return, do you decide you wanna be with me.”

 

“John I do lo-”

 

“ _ Don't. _ ” John breathed and they both feel silent. John turned his back once again, and when he spoke the rawness of his voice cut Alexander to his core.

 

“You don't love me Alex. Because if you did, you would let me be happy. And you wouldn't talk to me anymore after tonight.”

 

Alex waited for him to turn back around, waited for himself to wake up from a drunken stupor and have dreamed this whole encounter. Instead he watched his John walked into the house and shut the door behind him.

 

And Alex was alone outside in the cold, save for a girl in red leaning against the back wall of the house, smoking a cigarette. 

 

* * *

 

 

Lafayette was not nearly drunk enough at his own party. He had taken several shots with various friend groups, toasting to his health, and had chugged several delicious concoctions Hercules made him.

 

Yet he was still sober enough to remember that he was expected to stand before a panel of white men on Monday and defend himself against a white wealthy upper class boy. Defend the logic that would deem it unavoidable for Washington to punch Lee. An older, black professor.

 

He heard a murmur near the front door and saw a mild crowd forming. Frowning and ignoring the way his stomach was churning, he pushed his way to the front.  _ This party is for me, damn it. Nothing exciting should be happening unless I say so. _

 

He reached the front and stopped cold in his tracks, the churning of his stomach growing more violent.

 

Swaying in the doorway, facing the crowd of hostile students, was a very drunk Samuel Seabury.

 

“I tol’ you I'm just here to check on my room mate.” He slurred to a girl who was blocking his path into the house. “He hadn't been home in days.” Sam’s eyes fell on Laf, like a shark honing in on blood, and Laf felt all the air escape his body. 

 

“Oh hey.” Samuel smirked and Lafayette couldn't move. Couldn't breath.

 

He was violently thrown back into the memory of arms trapping his own again his back. Holding him tightly even as he twisted and screamed while Lee reached back to swing. Laf’s vision was blurring.

 

“It's the faggot who's fucking Washington.” 

 

It was Thomas who swung first but Hercules was close behind. Once Samuel had seen Laf the crowd had gone dead quiet, alerting his friends that something was horribly wrong _. _

 

Out of the corner of his eye Laf saw John slip into the house, wanted to call out to him but he couldn't make his mouth form the words.

 

“You are not  _ fucking _ welcome here.” Thomas roared as Hercules grabbed Samuel’s shoulders to steady him from Jefferson’s right hook, only to reel back and clock him square in the face.  _ Don’t hit him. Don’t make everything worse. _

 

_ Hey is Lafayette okay? _

 

The voice was fuzzy, as if it were coming from inside his own head, and Laf swayed unsteadily on his feet. The world was just a mix of colors and sounds at this point, the occasional familiar face appearing before him like a slow moving tableau.

 

_ Laf? It's Herc, you okay? He's gone. _

 

_ Break his nose Lee. _

 

_ Lafayette? _

 

_ This was for that cunt Washington, but I’ll warm up on you. _

 

The voices were swimming together, he couldn’t tell what was his own memory and what was happening right now.  _ I guess I did have enough to drink.  _

 

Lafayette watched Angelica run forward as if to yell at Samuel but she froze, stopping suddenly in front of him with woozy movements, before she hunched over and emptied the contents of her stomach on Samuel's shoes. 

  
That was the last thing Laf remembered before he completely blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst™
> 
> Sorry it took so long to update, I'm back in school now so bleh. Thank you for your lovely comments<3


	6. Chapter 6

Lafayette loved his little foursome group of friends, he loved them with all of his heart. Alexander was like his brother, they understood one another on an innate level, and he knew they would be friends until the grave. And maybe haunt a house together even after death. John was sweet and good, Lafayette felt protective of him despite knowing he was capable of taking care of himself. He loved that John saw the good in everyone, fought for every cause. And of course Hercules. If Herc was actually gay (Lafayette was the only one who knew how truly straight he was, better than anyone in fact) they would probably be soulmates.  


  


But they weren't his only friends. Once a week, alternating who brings the food, him and James Madison would go to Thomas’ house and spend hours gossiping. Lafayette wanted to refer to these meetings as Bitch Fests but Thomas,  _ goddamn stick in the mud, _ refused.

  


He hadn't gone last week, having been recently hospitalized and what not, and Laf almost painfully missed seeing their faces.  _Plus, the conversation will be lighthearted and a distraction from having to think about my meeting with the board._

  


Alex acted tremendously offended whenever Laf when over to Thomas’. 

  


“ _ Mon amie,  _ you do not have a monopoly on me. I am a desired commodity you know.” He often scolded, but Alexander would only pout.

  


Lafayette was 1000% positive that Alex secretly wanted an invitation, if not to satisfy his curiosity then to at least spent the entire evening getting under Thomas’ skin in his own home.  _ Maybe I should ask. Thomas loves to show off his house during dinner parties, and it would be terribly amusing to watch them rile one another up. _

Lafayette mentioned as much to Thomas tonight, hoping that maybe he would have such a strong reaction he wouldn't notice if Laf didn't touch the terrible home cooked lasagna.

  


“You want me to invite Hamilton into my home.” He said dryly, not a question. Laf grinned cheekily.

  


“No Thomas, it was simply an amusing thought. Knowing Alexander, he would refuse to come, no matter how curious he is. I believe he suspects we’re in a cult.”

  


“You know who you  _ should _ invite,” Thomas gulped at his wine and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve.  _ For someone who had spent so much time in France, he possesses no class at the table.  _ “Your friend who sews. I like him. He knocked Seabury out cold with one punch.” Lafayette smiled.

  


“Ah, Hercules. My hero.”

  


“Hey,” Thomas whined. “I hit him first.”

  


“Speaking of Alex, how is he?” James asked, pushing his pasta around with his fork and feigning indifference. Thomas arched an eyebrow.

  


“Since when do you care about Hamilton?”

  


“We did a group project together last semester, with that Jay kid. He's not as bad as you think.” He said a little too defensively. 

  


“That's not it. You know something.” Laf smirked and James stared at his plate.

  


“What's the  _ chisme _ ?” Thomas asked.

  


“Stick to french.” Laf rolled his eyes.

  


“It's just that some people are saying….at the party-”

  


“How could something have happened with Alex at the party and I not know of it?” Laf crossed his arms and Thomas snickered.

  


“Well Laf,” Thomas said. “You were a little preoccupied with fainting.”

  


“I did  _ not  _ faint.” He said hotly. “I just blacked out a little bit.  _ Ces lasagnes sont horribles.” _

  


“Guys no French at the table.” James whined as Thomas gasped loudly. 

  


“Why not stick to the one dish you are good at?” Laf teased, satisfied that the smug look had been wiped from his face. “Or did Alexander calling you a ‘macaroni fuckboy’ really bother you so much?”

  


“It's not the  _ only _ dish I’m good at.” He pouted. “I make good breakfast foods. Right James?” James looked at Laf desperately.

  


“So what did happen with Alex at the party?” Laf asked, rescuing James from having to answer. He looked simultaneously relieved and panicked at the new question.

  


“Well uh, I heard he kissed John?” Lafayette choked on his wine. 

  


“He  _ what _ ?”

  


“Wait, I thought those two were dating?” Thomas frowned in confusion.

  


“No, he's dating Eliza, isn't he?”

  


“Wow,” Thomas blinked. “I thought he was gay and just like, good friends with her.”

  


“He's bi.” Laf grumbled. “And he can say goodbye to his ass when I'm done kicking it.”

  


“Did you just make a pun?”

  


“C'mon Laf,” James nudged his arm. “Don't be so hard on him. I saw him at that party, and he was plastered. Plus, isn't he somewhat notorious for sleeping with whoever he wants?”

  


“Good point James,” Laf said dryly. “Hey, didn't you two hook up last year?” Now it was Thomas’ turn to choke.

  


“You slept with the  _ enemy _ ?”

  


“That's a little dramatic.” James mumbled, blushing furiously and twirling his fork.

  


“I just cannot believe that I  _ specifically told him _ not to fuck with John’s feelings and he did anyway.” Laf was stabbing at his lasagna now, Thomas cringing with every blow.

  


“Look, Lafayette.” Thomas spoke in a soothing tone, like he was a dangerous wild animal. “We can all agree that Alex is an ass. Right James?”

  


“Yes.” He mumbled, still not looking up.

  


“But let's not let his assery ruin our evening.”

  


“Truly,” Laf sighed. “I am not that angry, not surprised. Just  _ agacé _ .”

  


“No French.” James whined again and Laf chuckled.

  


“ _ Mon chér _ , if you are feeling so left out when we speak French, why do you not learn it?”

  


“He's learning Spanish.” Thomas rolled his eyes contemptuously and James glared at him.

  


“All of America will be fluent in Spanish by 2020 Thomas. I will not be left behind.”

  


“All of my friends are bilingual except for you and Hercules.” Laf covered his mouth with his hand as he spoke, chewing dainty bites of the disgustingly rubbery lasagna. “You are already being left behind.”

  


“I think of all your friends, those two are the least insane.” Thomas rested his chin on his hand. “I wonder if there's a correlation.”

  


“Between being bilingual and being a fucking idiot?” Laf smirked. “Well there you sit Thomas, living proof.”

  


“I will soon be  _ tri _ lingual.” He retorted smugly. “I'm studying Latin.”

  


“Literally a dead language.” Laf said in unison with James asking:

  


“Is there really a use for that?” Thomas scoffed in an overdramatized display of offense.

  


“It is a beautiful language. I will be able to read things only a  _ handful _ of people can.”

  


“I'll buy a translated version.” Laf teased. “Are you trying to impress Angelica?”

  


“I don't need to  _ try. _ ” He sipped his wine. He was putting on his usual show of cockiness but Lafayette knew him well enough to recognize the nervousness in his eyes when he mentioned her name. “She likes me enough as I am.”

  


“So is it official then?” James asked, looking down at his plate.

  


“Well,” Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. “Not...not quite yet…”

  


“Good,” Lafayette interrupted, as both were obviously uncomfortable with the topic. “Don't seal the deal on that quite yet. We still need to have a  _ ménage à troi. _ ”

  


Both of them spluttered and choked and Lafayette, thoroughly amused, finished the remainder of his wine in one long drink. 

  


_ Let's just all avoid the topics we’re uncomfortable with. It's been working out this far. _

  


“Let's have more wine.” Laf said, and stood up with a grin that was only partially forced, dumping his lasagna into the kitchen trash can as he grabbed another bottle.

  


* * *

  


When Angelica woke up the morning after the party, the first thing she was aware of was that the sun was  _ too goddamn bright. _

  


The second thing she noticed was that she was not in her own bed.

  


At this realisation she'd sat up fast, too fast, and hissed in pain at the pounding behind her temples, immediately laying back down.

  


“Oh, you're awake.” Thomas was there. She didn't know where he had come from, if he'd been in the room this whole time, and she didn't care. What she cared about was the water and aspirin he held out to her, and she consumed both greedily. 

  


“What the fuck happened last night?” She rubbed the bridge of her nose and shut her eyes, wanting to melt into these  _ fucking feather _ pillows and sleep for about a hundred years.

  


“You got really, really drunk.” His voice replied dryly, and she felt the bed sink as he climbed into it beside her.

  


“Is this your bed?” They'd only ever hooked up in her dorm. It had never occurred to her that he had his own room. She'd just assumed he slept in some kind of frat house, or maybe in the bed of whoever he’d had sex with.  _ Whatever, Thomas’ sleeping habits occupy the lowest position of things I can be bothered to wonder about. _

  


“Yes, this is my house. You never left.” He chuckled slightly and she sighed, struggling to hold down a solid memory.

  


“Did I….did I throw up in front of everybody?” She asked nervously, and his laugh confirmed the answer she didn't want to hear.

  


Everything was a blur of colors and sounds. She remembered chugging down a red, sweet liquid. She remembered seeing Alex, with his hair down and tangled and framing his face. Mostly though, she remembered Thomas being there.

  


_ Thomas. _

  


It came back to her in quick bursts, the memories as hazy and uncertain as a dream. Thomas giving her glass after glass of water. Thomas carrying her up the stairs. Thomas holding her hair and she hunched over a toilet, vomiting a disgustingly large quantity. Thomas helping her change into clean clothes, tucking her into bed.

  


Thomas being right here when she woke up.

  


“Thank you.” She said softly after several minutes, opening her eyes and turning to face him.

  


“For what?”

  


“You took care of me.” She felt oddly vulnerable, facing the man who had watched over her when she was incapable of doing so herself. The man whose shirt she was wearing and whose bed she had slept in.

  


“Yeah well,” He smirked. “You didn't exactly make it easy.” She groaned, embarrassed.

  


“God, I was a dick wasn’t I? I can be such a mean drunk.”

  


“Yeah, you really were.” He agreed but he was smiling at her.

  


Angelica didn't like feeling indebted to anyone. And while she knew Thomas was hardly expecting anything in return, it was a difficult instinct to shake. The feeling that she owed him something now.  _ People can just be nice without ulterior motives Angie. _

  


“Really though,” She swallowed. “Thanks for uh, looking out for me. Sometimes I don’t know when to quit.”

  


“Well, I care about you Angelica.” He was staring at her intensely, face inches away from hers across a pillow.

  


He reached his hand out and gently traced his fingertips along her cheek bone, rubbing his thumb along her jawline, pausing on her lower lip. She held her breath, watching his eyes trace the lines of her face.

  


“God,” He whispered, as if he were talking to himself. “You are so beautiful.”

  


“Thomas.” She whispered and he blinked, sitting up as if a spell had been broken.

  


“Sorry. I forget. I'm not your boyfriend.” The words were harsh, holding some meaning that was lost on her, and she frowned.

  


“Am I missing something?”

  


“Angie, I don't wanna ruin a good thing.” He ran his hand through his hair, and she wished he would lie back down so she could see his face. “But I have to ask, what are we?”

  


“What?” She wanted to dive under the blankets and hide, the word catching in her throat. He turned around to look at her.

  


“I like you. And sometimes I think you like me, and sometimes I really just cannot tell. I don't wanna just fuck around with you. If that's all you're looking for that's okay. I just can't be that guy for you. I….I like you too damn much.”

  


_ I cannot believe confirmed bachelor Thomas Jefferson is telling me he wants to be more than friends with benefits.  _

  


“I understand.” She replied softly, feeling more nervous and unsure than she had in a very long time.

  


“So, what's it gonna be?” He sounded just as anxious as her, which she found oddly reassuring.

  


“Look, I'm not looking to date anyone right now Thomas.” He let out a sigh and she quickly continued. “But,” she licked her lips, rolling over so she didn't have to look at him. “We can be exclusive.” She felt him turn to face her.

  


“So, we aren't dating. But we aren’t seeing anyone else.” His tone was full of disbelief and she rolled her eyes in annoyance.

  


“Take it or leave it Jefferson. Either way, I'm going the fuck back to sleep.” She bundled herself under the blankets and, after a moment, felt him lay back down.

  


“I'll take it.” 

  


She heard the smile in his voice,  _ annoying fucker _ , and didn't even bother pushing him away when he cuddled up against her, arms around her waist. She leaned back into his chest, breath warming the back of her neck, and fell back into heavy slumber. 

  


* * *

  


Lafayette swallowed heavily, the simple function surprisingly difficult. He was finding other basic human motions, such as breathing and keeping his hands from shaking, equally challenging. He wondered if, on an entirely internal level, his blood cells were struggling to chug through his veins. If his heart was having a hard time finding the strength to pump and compress itself.

  


He was standing by a door, too nervous to sit, waiting for it to open and have someone invite him in to recount what was possibly the worst night of his entire life.

  


Lafayette wasn't afraid of the men he would face. It was a simple classroom, they would be seated in desks, not looking over him like judges at a trial. He wasn't afraid of going over the violent details, he had nothing to hide and nothing to lose.

  


He was terrified, however, of that face that one Howard F. Lee was a member of the school board gathered today. Charles Lee’s father.

  


Maybe the man was disappointed in his child, but Lafayette found the notion more amusing than anything.  _ Monsters are not born, they are made.  _ Lee’s entitlement and certainty he would get away with such an act had to stem from somewhere, he had to have been taught at some point in his life that these actions would have no repercussions.

  


_ And dear old dad will be deciding Washington’s fate today. _

  


“Mr. M-motier?” The door creaked open and a older man with kind eyes offered him an apologetic smile, as he had just sort of butchered pronouncing Laf’s name. “The board is ready for you now.”

  


After he had lost consciousness at the party, the next thing he remembered was waking up in bed, Alex hovering over him.

  


“Oh thank God, you're okay. I'm so sorry, I never should've brought you to that party.” Laf had sat up, groggy and with a killer headache, and had barely managed to roll his eyes.

  


“Alex you look like shit. What happened to you?” His eyes were red and puffy, hair askance as though Alex had been continuously running his hands through it.

  


“Me? Oh, nothing. It's not important. Laf, you literally  _ fainted _ .”

  


“I guess uh, seeing that dick Seabury had more of an effect on me than I thought it would.” He’d grabbed at a bottle of water, chugging it contents and wishing for some of that hospital morphine to drown out his hangover. 

  


“Do you want me to stay with you today? I don't have to go to class.” He wasn't just saying that. Alexander did so much work prior to its actual due date that he could probably autopilot his classes for a couple months.  _ He's a fucking legacy among the teachers. _ George had told him as much.

  


_ George.  _

  


The memory of his meeting with the board was unwelcome, and Laf envied those moments upon waking up when everything seemed alright with the world. 

  


“No,” He'd told Alex, rubbing his eyes with enough force that he saw stars. “I have to talk to some of the school board members today about what happened. And I have a very strong feeling that I will be wanting nothing except sleep afterwards.”

  


“Can't say I relate.” Alex had teased, then sat down beside him. “Laf, a lot has happened in a really short amount of time and….you aren't talking about anything. Not even about Washington.” Alex looked like a wounded animal when he was concerned. Normally Laf found it sweet, but this morning it had only made his stomach clench. “Are you okay? Really? Or are you just repressing everything that-”

  


“Alexander.” Laf looked at him sternly. “I appreciate your concern, but just mind your own business.” He immediately regretted being so harsh at the broken look that flashed across Alex’s face. But before he could apologize Alex’s expression hardened and he stood up.

  


“Fine Laf, you don't have to tell me twice. I'll be here when you're ready.” He had stormed out and Laf had just gone back to sleep, too tired to analyze Alex’s sensitivity.

  


He’d been too tired to analyze his own sensitivity. 

  


“Thank you sir.” 

  


Laf stepped inside, wanting to almost laugh at how informal it looked. The men who could make or break everything he cared about, sitting in desks like students. 

  


The elderly man who had opened the door motioned towards a chair adjacent to the group of officials. Laf nodded and took a seat, managing to keep his exterior calm and composed as he looked towards them expectantly. 

  


There were four of them, including the elderly man. They were all men and they were all white. One had a stern face and dark black hair, another who was small and balding, and the third one resembled Lee so strongly that Laf’s chest clenched. He had the same nose and jawline, and when the men looked up from their notepads, Laf saw he had the same dark eyes. Glinting and cruel. The balding man cleared his throat.

  


“Ahem. First of all, Mr…”

  


“Please monsieurs, call me Lafayette.” He spoke softly, and the man blinked uncomfortably.

  


“Ah, Mr. Lafayette. We wanted to encourage you to be as honest with your account as possible. We have already interviewed both Professor Washington and Mr. Lee, and were simply waiting for you to...recover.” He stared at Laf, as if waiting for some kind of response, and he quickly nodded.  _ Do they think I would lie? What would I gain?  _ “We are here to determine the outcome of the academic careers of both these men, so your testimony is vital.”

  


_ Both these men _ .

  


“Wait,” Lafayette’s voice broke slightly and he swallowed, struggling to keep himself put together. “The fate of Lee is being determined as well?” Lafayette had been dreading the possibility of Washington being fired, it had never occurred to him that Lee’s punishment would even be in question. “Doesn't violence warrant an automatic expulsion?”

  


“Well,” Lee’s father spoke, voice cold and spiking through Laf’s collected facade. “We are reviewing all the details. We want to ensure expulsion is the best route, and that no student loses their academic career without valid reason. Once expelled for violence, most students find it impossible to be accepted anywhere else.”

  


“I was in the hospital.” Laf practically snarled and the elderly man raised his hands defensively. 

  


“Now now Mr. Lafayette, let's not get hysterical.”  _ Old man you will know when I am hysterical.  _ “Lee will not go unpunished, I promise you. We are just trying to determine how extensively.”

  


Laf wanted to argue more, wanted to protest the boy’s  _ father _ even being in the room. But he knew he had to make them take him seriously. He’d have to play docile for now, portray the student of perfect reasoning. They could be racist, they could be homophobic, they could all be loyal to Lee and his son. Lafayette didn't know, and he wasn't going to risk any of it.

  


“Of course.” He nodded coolly. “Well, I was walking towards Ge-Professor Washington’s office and-”

  


“What were you doing there?” The old man interrupted, tone unaccusatory but still irking Laf the same.

  


“I required his help, as he is my professor.”

  


“We have on record that you visited him numerous times.” The man adjusted his glasses, looking at his notes. “May we ask why?”

  


“I go home to France every summer,” He said, letting his accent glide over his words. This was good, he could remind them that he was upper class. Elite and foreign and fancy. “And sometimes, when I spent so long without practice, writing in English becomes less natural to me. The professor was helping me review my writing, helping me correct myself. He is very kind like that.”

  


“And,” Lee’s father spoke now. Laf forced himself to smile at him.  _ I can be charming even amongst the vipers.  _ “What time were you visiting him the evening of the...incident?”  _ Call it an attack, you coward. _

  


“Six pm.” He replied evenly.

  


“Why so late?” It felt like the room was empty save for Lee’s father and him, a lethal match of eye contact. “Don't the offices close at six?”

  


“The Professor had a meeting that day, during the time of our usual tutoring session.” It was an effort not to call him George. But with the rumors already flying around, Laf couldn't afford a slip that revealed such familiarity. “He offered to help me after hours, as I did not want to miss his tutoring.”

  


“Your English seems fine to me.” The bald man observed, and Laf fixed him with a cool stare.

  


“It it my writing, monsieur, that suffers. Not my speech.”  _ Next they're going to ask me what I was wearing.  _

  


“So you were there at six,” The elderly man gave the balding one a sharp look. “Please continue, Mr. Lafayette.”

  


“I noticed the lights were off when I reached the hallway, which struck me as strange.” Laf suddenly felt like the room were spinning. He gripped the desk tighter.  _ Reste calme. Reste calme. _ “I um, I reached his office, and I heard voices.” His voice was shaking, he could hear it.  He swallowed and quickly continued, hoping they wouldn't notice. “I turned on the lights and there were boys in there. It surprised me, because they were all hiding behind the furniture.”

  


“And these boys,” The elderly man’s voice was softer now. “Can you identify them?”

  


“Charles Lee.” He spoke clearly over his pounding heart. “Samuel Seabury. And I don't know the names of the others, I didn't recognize them.”

  


“Were there three boys or four?” Lafayette blinked. 

  


“I….I don't remember.”

  


“You don't remember?” Lee’s father leaned forward and the elderly man placed a hand on his shoulder.

  


“That's alright. Can you tell us what happened next?”

  


_ This was for that cunt Washington but I’ll warm up on you. _

  


“I asked them what they were doing.” Laf’s mouth was dry. “And they,  _ Charles _ , said they were lying in wait for Washington.”

  


“He told you that?” Lee’s father sounded skeptical, accusing. Lafayette felt a moment of clear, concise calm within his rising panic.

  


“His exact words, monsieur, were ‘This was for that cunt Washington, but I'll warm up on you’.”

  


There was an immediate murder amongst the men and they scribbled down notes furiously, save for Lee. He was simply glaring at Lafayette, eyeing him like a bug on the windshield that simply refused to fly away.

  


“Mr. Lafayette?” The man who hadn't spoken yet, with dark hair and a blank face, looked at him. “What occurred next?”

  


“Mr. Lee moved to attack me, to hit me,” Laf was breathing heavily, reciting the scene as it played before his eyes. “And I broke his nose. I hadn't yet realized the danger I was in. Seabury then held my arms behind my back a-and Lee swung at me repeatedly with some kind of,” Deep breath. “Metal pipe.”

  


“Mr. Lafayette, would you like to take a break?” The elderly man’s voice came through a fog, Laf shook his head.

  


“No monsieur, I am alright. I….I had nearly blacked out at this point, I was in such pain. Then Lee moved to strike my face with the pipe, and was intercepted by George.”

  


“George?” Lee’s father raised an eyebrow and Lafayette felt cold.

  


“I….the professor. Washington. My apologies,” His voice dripped with bitterness. “When somebody saves your life, you tend to think of them by their first name.”

  


“So you believe,” Balding man eyed him. “That Lee and the boys would have killed you?”

  


“ _ Oui. _ ” He said, receiving silence from the men. “He was making no indications that he would stop swinging, and his friends were only egging him on. Had  _ Washington _ not intercepted, he would’ve probably cracked my skull.”

  


“What happened to the other boys?”

  


“They ran away while the professor tried to protect himself and I from Lee. Then he sat with me until the police came.”  _ Holding me. _

  


“Thank you Mr. Lafayette.” The elderly man smiled at him. “We are relieved to know you are recovering well. Does anyone have any further questions?”

  


“Yes.” Lee shuffled some papers, then turned to Laf. “It has been implied to us that you and the professor’s relationship was sexual in nature. Do you deny this?” Lafayette blinked.

  


“I do deny it. Although I do not understand what that accusation would have to do with your son attacking me?” Lee’s eyes never left his face.

  


“Well, the other boys claimed that Washington’s testimony was false, and a cover up to protect the professor, as they claimed to have caught you two….together.”

  


“My ribs are broken.” Laf’s voice was thick, face growing flushed with rage. “Do you think I inflicted these wounds upon myself,  _ monsieur _ ?” 

  


“Now now,” The balding man stood up. “The rather sketchy stories the boys fed us do not concern Mr. Lafayette. Nor does accusing him of lying further our search for justice.”

  


“A professor can't hit a kid.” Lee hissed at the man, who crossed his arms.

  


“And a kid can't  _ beat _ another kid with a  _ lead pipe _ and not go to  _ prison _ Howard.”

  


“Mr. Lafayette,” The elderly man interrupted. “You are free to leave. Thank you for your testimony. I wish you a swift recovery.”

  


“Amen.” The dark haired man said, and Laf stood quickly to leave.

  


As he stepped outside into the crisp evening sir, he wished to any great powers watching over him that he would never have a class in that room. He wouldn't be able to breathe.

  


_ Hey, that could’ve gone worse _ .

  


He tried to console himself, but his throat was burning. Whenever Lafayette cried, it was not pretty or poetic, as he liked to imagine himself. No, when he wept, it was angry and dry and he could taste blood. His tears were hot and unwelcome on his face, and he wiped them away aggressively, pulling out his phone.  _ I cannot believe how Lee’s father spoke to me. I cannot believe they made me feel  _ **_guilt._ ** _ As if this were my own doing. _

  


french toast: mon amie, may I borrow your car?

  


zero to hero: of course. Are you okay??

  


zero to hero: wanna hang out? I have an unopened bottle of fireball

  


french toast: no but I don't wanna talk about it

  


french toast: very tempting lol but no thank you

  


zero to hero: I understand

  


zero to hero: I have the keys whenever you want them

  


french toast: I'll head over after I make a quick stop at the admissions office

  


zero to hero: ????

  


french toast: you do not want to know

  


zero to hero: okay

  


zero to hero: I love you

  


french toast: I love you too Herc

  


french toast: on my way

  


* * *

  


“What's wrong with you?” Hercules nudged John with his foot from his position on the floor. “You've been acting weird since the party.”

  


John took a long swig from the glass bottle, gagging and cringing at the taste, and then taking another drink.

  


“Shit with Alex.” He said lazily, staring at the carpet.

  


John hadn't left his dorm all weekend, claiming a wicked hangover was the case. But he hadn't drank at all that night. He’d be stone cold sober.

  


_ Alex was drunk, that's all. He was so fucking drunk. _

  


John licked his lips, tasting the burning cinnamon of fireball but remembering the soft, sweet taste of Alex, and the liquor on his lips.

  


_God._ Everything else aside, all his anger and sadness and feelings of betrayal, the kiss had been _so damn_ _good_. It had been how he always imagined it; electric and all consuming and just pure _Alex_.

  


_ But Alex knows that's what you've always wanted. Alex knew all along, and he just trailed you along like a lovesick puppy. _

  


Alex’s hands had run over his skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake, and John shivered at the memory. Why did Alex have to be so selfish like this, confuse John this much?

  


_ It's not confusing. _ He scolded himself.  _ You are with Nathan. That's the only reason Alex thinks he wants you. He misses his audience.  _

  


_ He was going to tell me he loves me _ .

  


_ No, he only loves himself. _

  


“Oh,” Herc sounded unsurprised as he lifted his head from the floor, looking up at John. “Wanna talk about it?”

  


“He kissed me.” John blurted out. He felt guilty, he didn't want the others to think badly of Alex. But maybe Alex deserved it. And didn't John deserve someone to listen to him? These were his friends too.

  


“He what?” Herc sat up, eyes the size of saucers, and John laughed.

  


“Yeah I know. What a plot twist.” He chugged more fireball then passed the bottle to Herc.

  


“Are you….are you okay?” Hercules was looking at him like he was soft. Fragile. John bristled. 

  


“Well, I’m just annoyed for the most part. Why wouldn't I be okay?”

  


“Because of how you feel about him.” Herc stated matter of factly. John’s mouth parted slightly in surprise.

  


“Does  _ everyone _ fucking know?!” He demanded and Herc just nodded, finishing the bottle and swaying, falling back on his palms. 

  


“Yeah, we all knew. We just didn't want to see you get hurt.”

  


“What? I don't understand. You all knew how I love Alex and didn't say anything to me? Didn't, I don't know, try to talk me out of it? Sheild me?”

  


“S’was cute.” Herc shrugged, very drunk, and John stood up.

  


“You guys treat me like I'm so soft and sensitive.” He snarled. “Well I'm not some goddamn pushover. I don't need to be  _ coddled _ .”

  


“Whoa,” Herc held up his hands. “Calm down. You're drunk.”

  


“Damn right I am.” John slurred, stumbling out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

  


His blood was hot with rage, he felt as though he could murder someone.  _ Just because I don't demand my way through life like Alex doesn't mean I'm passive. I'm made of the same fire as him. _

  


He felt slightly guilty for snapping at Hercules like that, but he was tired of how they looked at him. And he was humiliated. Everyone had always known how he felt about Alex, and they had never even hinted as much.  _ Was I just the butt of their jokes? Poor weak little John, who’s never even had sex with a boy, loves Alexander Manwhore. What a joke. _

  


The air outside was cold and unwelcome against John’s skin, biting at him and tugging on his hair. He wanted to just turn around, return to the warm dorm and company, but that would only embarrass him further.  _ What would Herc think? ‘How cute, John threw a temper tantrum then came back to apologize. No wonder Alex took advantage of him. He’s soft.’ _

  


No, he couldn't go back. But he couldn’t just stand in the cold feeling sorry for himself.

  


He couldn't go to Alex’s dorm, even though it was also Laf’s. He loved Lafayette, but he needed Alex to understand how serious he was about them not speaking. Besides, Lafayette probably wasn’t home.

  


And he couldn't go to Nathan’s, not yet. He hadn't seen him since the party which meant he hadn't yet told him about Alex. He would, of course. John was honest, and he cared for Nathan strongly. But he couldn't stomach the idea right now. He was a centimeter away from going over the edge, and he didn't want to explode all over Nathanael.  _ Guess I'll go to my own dorm then.  _

  


He stormed up the steps, gripping the handrail as he went to steady himself, and looked forward to falling asleep in his own blankets for the first time in a very long while. He swung open the door, balancing against it, and sucked in a breath. 

  


“Oh, hey John.” His roommate Samuel looked up with feigned interested, left eye cupped by an ugly purple bruise. “I wondered where you've been.”

  


“You're Sam’s roommate right?” Charles Fucking Lee asked, eyes flickering over him. “You look familiar, have we met?”

  


_ How dare he bring him here to my dorm. To my home. _

  


_ Probably thought you were too weak to do shit. Just like everybody else. _

  


“You son of a  _ bitch _ .” John roared and lunged at him, Samuel jumping back in surprise and Lee let  out an exclamation.

  


“What the fuck?!” He asked as John tackled him to the ground, pinning him with perfect ease in his fury, and then swinging back and letting his fist collide with his face.

  


“John what the hell?!” Samuel grabbed at his arm when he leaned back to swing again, and John shoved him into the nightstand, knocking him flat on his back.

  


“Lafayette is my friend, you piece of  _ shit _ .” John hissed, and hit him again, satisfied with how blood quickly pooled from his mouth. 

  


John’s rage was all consuming. He let his fist rear back and connect with Lee’s face again and again and again. He wasn't aware of whether the guttural cries he heard were coming from Lee or himself, and even after the boy’s hands, weakly trying to fight him, fell limp, he continued to punch him. He watched Lee’s face evolve into a red pulp, practically a puddle, and all sound faded away. There was nothing, there was no one. There was no Alex kissing him or Nathan trusting him or Hercules sheltering him.

  


There was only revenge, and Charles Lee.

  


_ Not so fucking tough now without three other boys and your fucking metal pipe are you? _

  


“ _ John _ .” A scream so piercing it sounded like a shriek pulled him out of his trance, and he became aware of his roommate shouting and tugging his shirt. 

  


John stood up and looked at his hand. It was quickly forming yellowish bruises around the knuckles, but it was hard to see for all the blood that stained his skin. He looked down at Lee, who moaned softly, and back up at Samuel. His vision was blurry, the alcohol was  _ really _ starting to hit him now, and he stuck a finger in Sam’s face.

  


“Either of you talk about this, and next time I kill him.” His words were slightly slurred but the sincerity was unmistakable. Samuel only responded with vigorous nodding and John patted him on the back, causing him to flinch. “Now get the fuck out and don't bring him here again. I'm going to sleep.”

  


He climbed under his covers, soft and white, and lazily watched Samuel help Charles to his feet and half drag him out, closing the door behind them. 

  


_ Who's fucking soft now? _ He thought, smirking to himself, and fell into a deep, drunken sleep. 

  


* * *

  


George was surprised to hear a knock on the door so late.  _ Well, you consider anything after 7 late _ . It was only nine, yet it was unusual nonetheless. The type of friends he had, other professors, were not the type to bother him at home, especially unannounced.  _ Maybe it's some religious speaker trying to make his daily quota. _

  


When he swung open the door to his apartment just outside of the city, a more rural and peaceful area, the last person he expected to see was Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette.

  


“Gilbert.” He said in surprise, and the boy cracked a weak smile.

  


“Monsieur,” His voice was rich and smooth like chocolate, something George refrained from. “I told you to call me Lafayette.”

  


The boy was standing on his doorstep with hopeful eyes, like a child on Halloween, but George had no candy. He cleared his throat. 

  


“P-please come in Lafayette.” He was taken aback but he still had his manners. “Can I get you some coffee?”

  


“ _ Non _ .” George watched the boy’s eyes roam over his living room, feeling strangely vulnerable, and slightly smile, as if he liked what he saw. This student of his was very mysterious in mannerism and speech, George never knew what he was thinking, and he liked it.  _ Do I pass your inspection? _

  


“What bring you here son?” He asked and Lafayette looked up at him with sadness in his eyes, a crack in the suave persona he always possessed. 

  


“I uh, my meeting with the board was today.”  _ Oh. _ His voice was soft and small, and George immediately moved to sit down on the couch, inviting him to the adjacent chair.

  


Lafayette sat down, resting his feet on the coffee table between them, and placed the small bag he was carrying between them with a  _ clink _ . 

  


“It does not seem like they intent to fire you but-” The boy’s voice started trembling and George reached over, placing a hand on his arm. “B- but if they do it is all my fault.  _ C'est de ma faute _ .”

  


“Gilbert,” George said sternly, hating how his chest clenched at the sight of Lafayette so upset. “It is not your fault. And I won't be fired. I did my job as a professor, I protected my student. I didn't jump into a fight, I prevented a violent attack from escalating.” Lafayette shook his head, turning his face away as if to hide the tear sliding down his cheek.

  


“The whole meeting, th-they just blamed me. I felt as though I were on trial. Lee’s father practically accused me of lying.” He hiccuped softly and covered his mouth, not even looking at George.  _ Those bastards. Letting Howard in the room with him. Interrogating him so close to his attack. I could  _ **_kill_ ** _ them. _

  


George remembered how it had felt, walking into that scene in his office. His blood turned to ice at the memory. He had heard shuffling, heard crying out, and had turned the corner to Gilbert- _ Gilbert- _ being struck in the stomach with a lead pipe. The boys were smiling, laughing, and his Gilbert was hanging limp from one of those monster's arms.

  


George had told the board members in his own meeting that he reacted out of logic, in a calculated way. That he had assessed the situation and saw the only possible way to protect Lafayette was to interfere, and he had done only what he absolutely had to.

  


It was a lie.

  


He had felt no logic, only white and empty rage. He had rushed in and immediately knocked the kid holding Gilbert to the ground, wanting to make sure he was safe before anything. Then he had rushed Lee, wrestled the pipe from him, and he could have simply detained him from there. But when George had walked in, Lee had been raising his pipe again to hit Gilbert in the face.

  


And George had punched him with such force that the boy knocked out cold.

  


He remembered the way Gilbert, barely conscious, had reached for his hand.  _ God, _ he hated himself more than anything in that moment. Those boys had been waiting for him, waiting to attack  _ him _ . They succeeded by wounding him in a way even George didn't understand.

  


They hurt Lafayette instead, the student so full of vivacity and fire. They had made the boldest person George had ever met feel fear, and George would never forgive those boys for that. If they had crushed Lafayette’s spirit in any way, George didn't think he would be able to sleep at night.

  


“Those board members, pardon for saying so, are all assholes.” George fumed and Lafayette looked at him, and let out a little laugh.

  


“My my professor,” He wiped his eyes, sitting up straighter. “Such profanities. And here I thought you were the beacon of morality.” George smiled softly.

  


“I am no such beacon Gilbert.” He let out a sigh. “And you don't have to worry about me. I received an email just an hour ago stating that I was to receive a one week suspension, but I am not fired.”

  


Lafayette stared at him a moment, blinking, before erupting into a huge grin and launching himself at George and pulling his into a tight embrace. 

  


“Oh thank  _ god. _ ” He breathed, mouth right beside George’s ear, and George chuckled, patting his back. 

  


As a rule, he generally didn't come into physical contact with his students, but he allowed himself to hug Gilbert back, eyes slipping shut.

  


“This calls for celebration.” Lafayette pulled away slightly but made no move to get off of him, having invited himself into George’s lap. The boy reached back to the bag on the table, revealing a bottle of wine. “I was going to bring you this to express my condolences, at possibly having ruined your life, and now I give it to you in celebration.”

  


“How did you even find where I live?” George asked suddenly, examining the bottle, and the boy’s face stretched into a smirk.

  


“I can charm anyone to my will George, including the teacher’s assistant in charge of personnel files.”

  


“That frightens me.” George replied sincerely and Lafayette threw his head back and laughed, a sweet sound.

  


The boy smiled and returned his head to George’s chest, sighing softly, and George suddenly felt panic rising in him. This was very dangerous.  _ What the hell are you doing George? You barely evade getting canned and now you have a student in your house cuddled up in your lap? _

  


“Let's uh, let's open the wine.” He said suddenly, standing up and taking the bottle to the kitchen. “You're over twenty one right?”

  


Lafayette fixed him with an unreadable expression, smile mischievous, and George swallowed. A random bit of trivia jumped into his head- _ vampires can only enter your house if invited _ \- and he didn’t know what to make of it. 

  


“I'm twenty two.” He practically purred, stretched out on the couch and fingering a small trinket George had on the coffee table. “How old are you?”

  


“Forty three.” George replied evenly, pulling the cork from the bottle and pouring two glasses.  _ Almost double your age son. _

  


Lafayette sat up as George came back to the living room, thankfully returning to his own chair, and eyed George as he sipped his wine.  _ I should make him leave. Thank him for the wine, wish him well, then go to sleep. _

  


“So Gilbert,” He set his glass down on the table. “What brings you here tonight, truly?” The playfulness in the boy’s eyes immediately dimmed, and he looked down at the floor.

  


“ _ Truly _ , professor, I ah….I had nowhere else to go.” Lafayette shrugged, taking another drink of wine. “My friends are compassionate but...they do not understand. They are kind but they…”

  


“They weren't there.” George finished for him and Lafayette nodded, that sadness in his eyes striking George to the core.  _ He's just a lonely kid George, he's not going to drink your blood. _ George reached across the table and patted his arm.

  


“I understand son.” He lifted his glass to Laf, proposing a toast, and was relieved to see his smile return and the boy raised his glass.

  


“What shall we toast?” Laf asked softly and George grinned.

  


“Tenure. God bless tenure.” 

  


Lafayette laughed and they clinked their glasses, each taking a long drink.  _ This is expensive stuff _ . George thought absentmindedly, slightly touched that Gilbert would go to such an extent. He was grateful he had lit his fireplace tonight, the warmth in the air matched the warmth in his chest.

  


“Did I ever thank you?” Lafayette blurted out suddenly, as if he had been holding back all night. “For saving me?” George scratched his neck.

  


“I'm sure you did. And anyway, you wouldn't have even been there if not for me.”

  


“I am glad it was me.” Lafayette whispered, and looked at George with all the stars in his eyes.  _ Heaven help me. _

  


“Don't say that.” His voice sounded rough, even to his own ears. “This shouldn't have ever happened to you. I should've been more responsible.”

  


“If they had ambushed you George, four to one…” George hated how tenderly Lafayette said his name.

  


“I am a very strong man Lafayette. I  _ wish _ they had just ambushed me instead of you. I should have….I should have…” He was struggling to breath and he closed his eyes, feeling a hand fall gently over his own.

  


“Let's just compromise and agree it was nobody's fault,  _ oui _ ?” Laf said softly, and George smiled, looking at him.

  


“What is the compromise for you in that? You didn't blame me to begin with.”

  


“No,” His eyes darkened. “But had you gotten fired….I would have never forgiven myself.” He withdrew his hand and took a sip of wine, crossing his legs. “And I would have destroyed Lee.”

  


Lafayette said it casually, but not as though it was a figure of speech. He spoke sincerely, and George believed he truly would have destroyed the boy, in hundreds of ways, had George been let go.

  


“I believe it.” Lafayette look at him intensely, tilting his head, and then smiled, the usual playfulness back in his gaze.

  


“Now, if only we could find a way to quell these rumors about us.” George chuckled, the air in the room feeling warmer.

  


“People have always talked about me like this. Apparently,” He felt slightly bashful admitting it. “Many students have had crushes on me. God knows what I do to encourage it.” Laf traced his finger along the rim of his wine glass.

  


“George, were you ever married?” George blinked at the sudden change in topic.

  


“Ah well, yes. I was. To a woman.” He had already implied to Lafayette at one of their many meetings that he was not straight, so he may as well explain. “It was before I knew…” Lafayette nodded.

  


“I understand. And have you since had a partner?” George was quiet for a moment and Lafayette must have taken that for reluctance. “Forgive me if I overstep in asking this. I am a nosy person.” He smiled, his tone unapologetic, and George shook his head fondly

  


“You don't overstep. Your question just made me realize that no, I have not.” 

  


George had divorced Martha when he was young, only thirty, and had of course had a couple of lovers. But he had not since been in any sort of relationship, never again feeling that love and trust and companionship. His chest ached.  _ Eleven years since you've fallen in love, old man. Can it really be so long? Is it over for you? _

  


“I understand.” The boy finished his glass of wine, smacking his lips together in a youthful yet endearing manner.  _ I wonder if he knows how charming he is. He must, to be able to breeze through life so carefree. _

  


George admired Lafayette for that, his spirit of freedom and invincibility. Even when George had been young, he had never quite been able to throw caution to the wind and be himself without remorse.  _ I'm grateful today's youth know better.  _

  


“Well,” Lafayette smirked at him, standing up. “I do not wish to overstay my welcome. So I-”

  


“Did you drive here?” George asked suddenly, and at Lafayette’s nod he shook his head. “You cannot drive after a full glass of wine.”

  


Lafayette blinked slowly at him, having to look down at the still sitting George. 

  


“So shall I….spend the night then?” His voice was quiet and George stood up, nervous by the boy being taller than him while he was seated.

  


“I don’t have a guest room but the couch um, pulls out into a bed.” George explained quickly, not sure why he felt the need to clarify, then looked down at the sofa.  _ Damn if I actually remember how _ . It had been a long time since he’d had guests over.

  


Lafayette nodded and went into the kitchen, empty glass in his hand.

  


“No reason to cease drinking then.” He explained cheekily, refilling his glass to the brim, and held out the bottle to George. 

  


The sight was tempting. The boy must have slipped off his shoes when George wasn’t looking, because he was barefoot. He looked like some kind of mischievous sprite, barefoot and grinning and offering George alcohol and God knows what else.

  


“I had better not.” George crossed the room to him, placing his own glass in the sink. “I'm too old to be getting drunk.”

  


“ _ Peu importe ce que tu dis _ .” Lafayette shrugged and took a very large gulp of his wine, half emptying the glass.

  


Lafayette leaned against the kitchen counter, making himself perfectly at home, and looked at George.

  


“So,” He was clearly buzzed, smiling more than usual. Or maybe he was just particularly happy. George didn't know him well enough to make the call. “George. When did you start teaching history?”

  


They launched into several little stories, sharing anecdotes about their lives and laughing a little louder than usual, wine in their chests. George did not even notice another hour had passed, as he was usually very asleep by now, until he yawned and Lafayette paused mid tale, tilting his head.

  


“ _ Mon du _ , am I keeping you awake George?” The man shook his head but yawned again, cursing himself as Lafayette  _ tsk _ ed him. “You are lying. I refuse to keep you from sleep.”

  


The boy was surprisingly adept considering he had finished another two glasses of wine. George had teased that maybe he had bought the bottle for himself all along. Lafayette lept down from his position sitting on the counter and collapsed on the living room couch.

  


“ _ Oui,  _ now that I am horizontal, I am very tired as well.”

  


“Here.” George grabbed a blanket from the hall cupboard and watched Lafayette curl up into it, body small under the thick quilt.

  


“ _ Merci _ .” He mumbled sleepily. George had noticed that the drunker the boy became, the more he slipped into French.  _ I should not know that. _

  


Was it inappropriate to be friends with a student? Perhaps not, but it was certainly inappropriate to have one crashed out on your couch. It felt all too intimate to George; laughing in the kitchen, drinking by the fire. He hadn't had anyone spend the night at his house since moving here ten years ago to become a professor at the university. He was a creature of habit, unable to even remember the last time he had stayed awake past 9:30, let alone midnight. 

  


_ Maybe some spontaneity is good for you. _

  


“Goodnight George.” The lump under the blankets called out, and the professor smiled fondly.

  


“Goodnight Gilbert. Sweet dreams.”  _ Little vampire _ .

  
He turned out the lights and went upstairs, struggling to wipe the smile from his face.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Et cette lasagne est terrible= And this lasagna is terrible  
> agacé=annoyed  
> Reste calme=remain calm  
> Il est de ma faute=It's all my fault  
> Peu importe ce que tu dis=whatever you say
> 
> So I realized that there is essentially no Alex in this chapter after posting it, but rest assured! We will return to the drama of our main character in the next chapter PLENTY. 
> 
> anyhow as usual thanks for reading comments restore my youth<3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my updates take forever BUT i compensate with really long chapters :)
> 
> Also I started working on a second lams fic which you can read [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7999390) if you like my stuff<3 it's different than this one, its scifi if thats ur thing, and it's brand new
> 
> as always thank you so much for reading!!

“Eliza.”

 

Alex stood outside her dorm room, the beautiful girl’s body blocking his entrance and looked at her shyly. Shamefully.

 

This morning he’d woken up with a hangover but not one as bad as Laf’s.

 

“Do you want me to stay with you today?” He’d offered. “I don't have to go to class.”

 

But Laf had refused, instead choosing to go have his little late lunch with Madison and Jefferson, instead of his own best friend. 

 

_ Nobody wants to be around you Alex. They're finally seeing right fucking through you. _

 

He wished he could forget the way John had looked at him. 

 

Usually, when John Laurens looked at him, it was as if Alex were all the stars in the world. He looked at Alex as if he believed the sun rose and set on his command.

 

But last night, he had looked at him like Alex was a murderer.  _ Maybe I am. _ He may have killed three years worth of trust.

 

_ I'm sorry John.  _

 

Except that….he wasn't sorry. Not really. He was  _ very _ sorry he had hurt John, that wasn’t his intention. But he hadn't acted out of drunken stupidity or carelessness.

 

He wanted John.

 

_ And maybe Laf is right _ , he thought defiantly.  _ Maybe I am so self obsessed that it took John being happy with someone else for me to realize how I felt. And maybe I am really that selfish, for not just putting how I feel aside and letting him be happy. But what does it matter? I finally know what I want, don't I deserve it? _

 

_ No _ , something small and deep inside him whispered.  _ You could never deserve him. _

 

Alex knew he should respect John and not try to talk to him, not try to confess his love. But this was  _ John. _ John, with his soft brown eyes and curly hair. John, who set up reminders in Alex’s phone to eat or sleep. John, who held him and laughed with him and would've followed him into fucking  _ war _ if Alex had asked.

 

_ I can't live without him. _

 

And now he had to face the casualties created by the one night he had ruined everything.

 

_ Eliza. _

 

He did like Eliza, truly he did. But in a different way than John.  _ She makes you happy. Don't ruin a good thing. _ He could forget John if he was with her. He could lose himself in her, and he was willing to. But maybe it was too late for that.

 

“Alexander.” Her gaze was cool and pointed, not unkind, but she didn't smile.  _ She knows. _

 

But that was impossible, how could she?  _ John would never tell her…..right? _

 

_ No, he isn't spiteful. Not like you. _

 

“I um,” Anxiety was pressing down on him with the weight of the world. He wasn't sure now what she knew. How to proceed. “I have to talk to you.”

 

“Yes, you do.”  _ Yeah, she definitely knows _ . What struck him most was that she didn't seem mad. Nothing but sadness resided in her eyes. 

 

“Eliza….at the party…” He was struggling for words and he looked at her helplessly.  _ You know, don't make me say it. _ But her gaze was expectant. “I um, I got very drunk at Lafayette’s party. Not that that's any excuse.” He took a breath. “I kissed John. Eliza, I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me.”

 

“I know,” She wasn't looking at him anymore, shoulders slumping in defeat, her cool exterior evaporating. “Maria told me.”

 

“Your roommate?” He crinkled his forehead in confusion.  _ At least it wasn't John. Just some girl I've never met. _

 

“She saw you. Saw you two...kissing.” Her voice cracked and he reached for her, on instinct, but she jerked back before he could touch her. He felt cold all over, spurred twice by the ones he loved. And he deserved it.

 

“Eliza,” His whispered, broken. “I am  _ so sorry _ .” She looked up and he expected her to be crying but she was not. Her gaze was neutral, reserved. As if he were a stranger or leftovers from last week. “It was a mistake. But I understand if you want to stop seeing me.”

 

“Yeah,” She breathed, eyes that had enchanted him since they had first met by the ocean shore looking at him evenly. “I do.”

 

* * *

 

 

There was a spot overlooking the Hudson river, next to a hot chocolate stand and a cold green bench that John thought was now his favorite place in the world. The air was crisp, the water was dark, and the chocolate was rich and burnt the tip of his tongue, a contrast to his chilled lips. In the darkness, it was desolate but not frightening. The sound of the unseen waves lapping at the shore was calming, the distant city sounds a symphony.

 

“It’s not as great during the day.” Nathan explained, leaning back on the bench to wrap an arm around John. “There's a weird amount of pigeons here. And I mean  _ weird _ . You can’t see the sidewalk.” John snorted, face half buried in his scarf.

 

“I am the pigeon king. They used to follow me around back home in South Carolina. I'm the real life version of that lady from  _ Home Alone _ .” John’s voice was muffled by the scarf and Nathan grinned at him in amusement.

 

“I can't hear you under all those layers.” He pulled down the scarf, as if to help John speak clearer, but once his lips were exposed Nathan snuck a quick kiss, lips tasting like the hot chocolate.

 

“Sneaky bastard.” John admonished him, blushing. 

 

It was the first time Nathan had kissed him tonight, on the first night they had seen each other all week. It was sweet, but John felt plagued by guilt. Nathan was not the last person who had kissed him, although he should have been.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Nathan touched his cheek with icy fingers and John sighed.

 

“Remember how I said we had to talk?” He shivered, a breeze brushing past them. “Well uh, let's talk.”

 

“Okay.” Nathan set his cup down, full attention on the boy beside him.

 

“At the party, the one for Laf, um. You remember Alex?” Nathan nodded, expression serious, and John gulped. “He kissed me.”

 

He was met with silence. Nathan looked out over the water, face unreadable, and licked his lips.

 

“And you kissed him back.” It wasn't a question. John nodded, shame enveloping him from head to toe.

 

“But only for an instant. I...I shoved him away. It was a mistake Nathan.” He said, and he meant it. He wanted Nathan, not Alex. Alex was his best friend, but he should not have kissed him.  _ I should not have loved him _ . “You are the only one I want to kiss. Experiencing him come on to me like that, made me realize it. I know that sounds fucked up.”

 

“He came on to you.” Nathan shook his head. “I fucking  _ knew _ he was possessive of you.” He turned his eyes on John, vulnerability shining through. “You really don't want Alex?”

 

John dared to lean forward and kiss him, Nathan responding slowly but with certainty. John pulled away and pressed their foreheads together after a moment, holding Nathan close to him.

 

“I want  _ you _ .” His voice was thick, broken at the thought that he had almost thrown this away. This beautiful and understanding boy. “Nathan, this won’t  _ ever _ happen again.” Nathan nodded, blinking slowly.

 

“I trust you.” He whispered. “Just not him.”

 

“I'm yours.” John said softly, and Nathan finally met his gaze.

 

“You mean that? As in, you're ready to be boyfriends?” 

 

“Yes.” John said, brushing aside any doubts or fears, lifting his hand to run his bruised fingers through Nathan’s hair.  _ That's funny, I don't remember hurting my knuckles. _ “We’re boyfriends. I mean, if you still want me.”

 

“You didn't cheat, we were not together or exclusive.” Nathan looked at him. “But if we’re going to be together, then I do want you exclusively. I don't want to have to worry whenever you're around your friends.” John cringed but knew he had no right to protest. He hadn't exactly proven trustworthy.

 

“You can trust me. And Alex won't try anything again. I made myself clear.”

 

_ Fuck _ , he thought, really letting how  _ clear _ he had made himself sink in.  _ Did I burn that bridge forever? I just wanted some space from him, does he think it's over? Will we ever talk again?  _ He shook his head to clear it.

 

_ It doesn't matter. You and him are close, but you loved him as naively as a child. _

 

Nathan smiled and kissed his cheek, then his other cheek, then his lips, lingering and pulling him closer.

 

“You're my boyfriend now.” He whispered, sweet voice sending shivers down John’s spine.

 

_ And maybe it's time to grow up _

 

* * *

 

 

“Now, since Freddy ole boy is out of town, I shall be leading this week’s debate club.” Jefferson tapped his ruler against his hand in a manner that he probably thought was very authoritative. Alex rolled his eyes as Thomas paced the front of the classroom like a dictator, head held so high Alex wondered how he could see.

 

It was going to be a trying day, he could tell. Having to answer to Thomas was bad enough, but Angelica’s usual seat was empty.  _ Who knows if she’ll even talk to you any more, buddy. You hurt Eliza. Angelica will probably gouge out your eyes. _ “I’ll be changing up the style of the meeting, and you better get used to it, since this is how it will be when I am president next year.”

 

Annoying as the notion was, Thomas was right. He had been heavily involved in the club since freshman year, devoting extra time that Alex just didn't have to helping Friedrich plan. He would certainly be club president their senior year.  _ The perfect time for me to quit. _

 

“I want to introduce a new member, an out of stater who just transferred in. Please make him feel welcome, this is Aaron Burr.” The students whispered to one another with mild curiosity, not particularly excited but not completely tuned out, as a tall boy stood up and waved at them all awkwardly before sitting back down. Alex’s eyes narrowed.  _ Competition? Or more audience fodder for when I destroy Thomas? _

 

“Now, I want to start today off with open discussion. One relevant to our campus.” Thomas grabbed a piece of chalk and scribbled on the board, handwriting so slanted that it took a moment for Alex to decipher the word  _ violence _ . “What warrants violence? Is it never acceptable, acceptable in self defense, or completely necessary? This is just discussion, not structured debate, so feel free to just speak. The usual rules, don't interrupt. No personal attacks.” He looked at Alex pointedly during the last part, which Alex pretended not to notice.

 

Usually there was more listening involved than actual participation, so the group sat in silence for several moments, the longest Alex could hold himself back for.

 

“Okay I guess I'll start on that incredibly vague topic.” He said, Thomas rolling his eyes. “Well for starters, there are several levels to violence, and different people draw the line in different places. Like how an open handed slap is not considered child abuse. It's generally never okay, people just go through cognitive dissonance to convince themselves that they are morally superior in their violence. That it's just as long as it's deserved, and people rely on their own moral code to determine what exactly ‘justice' pertains to.” He was speaking fast, having to pause briefly to gasp for air, as he didn't really know how to stop unless he ran out of breath. “Take, for instance, the death penalty. The ultimate violence, taking a life. People think that it's okay because the person being murdered is a murder. We kill people who kill people to prove that killing people is wrong.”

 

The room was silent, Alex’s favorite feeling. That people were basking in his words, bathing in his intellect. But it was cut short by a cough.

 

“Interesting analysis.” The new kid, Burr, spoke up. His voice and demeanor was calm, a contrast to Alex’s fire, and he spoke slowly. Like he had all the time in the world. “However, I think violence is, and always has been, essential.”

 

“How so?” Alex asked in a voice of thorns, bristling.

 

“Well,” Aaron leaned back, studying his nails. “The notions of ‘peace' and ‘justice' are idealistic, but  _ unrealistic _ . The world will never be a utopia, so we need a sense of order to maintain it. You mentioned the death penalty, but you are looking at it from the lenses of morality. From your own personal ‘code’ of morality, as you said. Our society functions on the basic rule that for crime, there is punishment. If you kill, you will be killed. Doesn't this protect more people? What is the alternative, keeping these murders alive in prison until they die of natural causes? Living a life free of rent, free of paying for the resources they suck out of tax dollars? You are speaking as though all violence is senseless and reckless. When in fact certain forms of violence, maintain order.” 

 

The silence that followed, heavy with thought and admiration, belonged exclusively to Alex. He did not enjoy the way his peers were looking at the new kid, not at all.  _ His words were pretty, he's eloquent, but he wasn't actually saying anything. How can they be so oblivious? _

 

“What about police brutality?” Alex countered, waiting for the eyes to return to him, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Is that just  _ maintaining order _ ? Do you think  _ that _ violence is necessary?”

 

“Of course not.” Burr blinked calmly in the face of Alex’s heated words. “But I think the fear of violence is sometimes necessary. Knowing that police officers are armed keeps criminals and thugs in check.”  _ Uncle Tom. _

 

Alex suppressed a shiver at his use of the word  _ thug _ , knowing the connotations revolved heavily around people of color. People like him, people who grew up in neighborhoods like his. People who weren't native English speakers, who weren't documented. Like him.

 

“People shouldn't live in fear of their government, those in power shouldn’t have the option of killing. It’s not only a racist connotation, but a classist one.” He hissed, nails digging into his desk. “You're describing a fascist society.” 

 

“And you're describing a socialist one.” Burr’s cool tone crawled under his skin, irritating him to his very core. “It’s ideal, but it won't work. In a perfect world Mr. Hamilton, perhaps we wouldn't need violence. But the world is not perfect. I'm new to the details of the story, but consider the professor who was just recently suspended for hitting one student to save another. Had he not interfered-”

 

“Do  _ not _ ,” Alex stood up out of his chair, fists clenched. “-stick your nose where it doesn't belong.” 

 

“Alexander,” Jefferson sounded fucking delighted. “Sit down. We're going to move on, since it's getting a little heated and you two are monopolizing the discussion.”

 

He moved on to some other clichè debate topic, like bodily autonomy, but Alex was not paying attention. His glare was glued to the back of Aaron Burr’s head, furious that he had been humiliated by this boy who wasn't even  _ right _ . The students around him were buzzing, jumping into the topic with enthusiasm, as Fred never let them speak, but Alex didn't contribute again. Neither did Burr, who was either oblivious to Alex’s poignant fury or very good at ignoring.

 

“Alex,” Jefferson caught his arm when class ended and Alex huffed in annoyance as he watched Burr slip away in the crowd.  _ You'll be getting a piece of my mind next week, you fucking eel. _

 

“What do you want?” He snapped, jerking away, and Thomas crossed his arms.

 

“That kid made an ass out of you.” He said, tone void of smugness, but Alex glowered all the same. 

 

“I'm aware of that Jefferson you don't have to gloat.”

 

“Jesus Christ you are so combative.” Thomas rolled his eyes. “Listen, you had stronger arguments, Alex. You were more logical, had more conclusive examples. And he still beat you.” Alex just stared at him, waiting for the catch. “Alex, I hate you as much as you hate me. But you're a really strong debater. And I think the only thing holding you back is your temper.”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” Alex understood, vaguely, that Thomas was attempting to give him advice. But that fact was difficult to register, considering this was the same guy who had once spiked his coffee before finals.  _ I still got all A's, even if I spent the next hour over a sink with John holding my hair. _

 

“This year, I'm convincing Fred to try and enter us into a real debate competition. We don't exactly qualify, but I know of a couple contests with looser prerequisites. And  _ you _ would be a very strong player.” He looked Alex over analytically, like a chess piece, and Alex frowned.

 

“Really? You think Fred would go for that?”

 

“Next year Alex, you and I are going to rule this club, so it doesn't matter. We both know it. And as fun as it is watching you flounder like an idiot,” He smirked. “We could work together. If you learn to manage that temper.”

 

“He just got under my skin.” Alex cringed. “I guess I could work on it.”

 

“You’d better.” Thomas gathered his belongings, signifying the end of this strange and uncomfortable conversation. “Because that new kid is looking like a real asset.”

 

* * *

 

  
  


“ _ Suspended? _ ” Alex’s mouth was hanging open and he almost dropped his phone. “For  _ what?! _ ”

 

“Apparently he beat the shit out of Charles.” Lafayette sounded proud and Alex’s stomach clenched with jealousy.  _ I would've protected you if I was there. If I had seen him I would've punched him too.  _ “John doesn't remember a goddamn thing but Seabury is terrified of him now. They had to practically force the report out of him, he said he was scared John would kill him if he told anybody.”

 

“John doesn't remember?”

 

“He was drunk.” Laf sounded distracted and indistinguishable voices sounded across the line. “I gotta go back inside Alex, he'd probably be mad if I told you.”

 

“Wait,” Alex clutched his phone desperately. “Where's he staying?”

 

“Alex…”

 

“Laf please.” He begged, on the verge of tears, and his roommate sighed. 

 

“Right now he's with Madison at his apartment. I really have to go now. I'll text you okay?”

 

“Okay.” Alex felt empty and alone when he heard the receiver click, still holding the phone up to his ear as if waiting for something more.

 

It wasn't  _ fair. _ Alex was supposed to be the one John called if he was in trouble,  _ Alex _ was his person. And now he had to hear that his best friend was  _ suspended _ from someone else.

 

_ I have to see him _ .

 

He knew it was risky. Hell, it was risking  _ everything.  _ It had been almost a week since the party, and he hadn't spoken to or seen John since. Partly out of respect for the boy’s wishes, and partly out of shame. Shame was his closest friend these days. It tugged at his sleeve when Eliza unfollowed him on instagram, slung an arm around his neck when he saw no new texts on his phone, held his hand when Laf coldly informed him that he knew about this kiss.

 

“I warned you Alex.” His friend had sighed, turning his back to Alex as he changed into his pajamas. “Do you know how embarrassing it was that  _ Madison _ had to tell me you kissed John?”  _ Maybe if you didn't have little tea parties with Thomas I could've had the chance to. _ Laf had looked at him, teary eyed. “We’re supposed to be  _ frères _ .” Brothers.

 

“Lafayette,” Alex had been cut to the quick by his words, sinking to the bed. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I….I regret it so much.” He had choked back a sob, suddenly overwhelmed by the weight of his actions. “ _ I regret it so much _ .”

 

Lafayette had, it seemed, forgiven him immediately at the sight of his tears, quickly sitting beside him and holding him close.

 

“Laf, everybody hates me now.”

 

“Alex,” Laf  _ tsk _ ed. “That is not true. I do not hate you. Herc and I are just, at the risk of sounding like a wine mom,  _ disappointed _ .” He sighed. “And John….John will come around. You fucked up Alex, that is true. But you are not a villain. It is hard to resist someone in love with you, especially when you are drunk and lonely.” Laf’s words seemed to carry a deeper context but Alex didn’t have the time to analyze it.

 

He had just agreed with Laf, pretending as though he shared the sentiment that it had been a one time mistake. In truth, his biggest regret was not kissing John sooner.  _ I shouldn't have hurt anyone in the process of realizing this though, especially not Eliza. _

 

_ I have to see him. _

 

He was already speed walking across campus, heading towards the little square a couple blocks away where Madison lived. He couldn't afford time to think it over, or he might talk himself out of it.

 

_ He was drunk _ . Laf’s words echoed in his ears, disturbing him. John wasn't much of a drinker, he much preferred getting high. And even when he  _ did _ drink, it was never to the point of getting drunk, let alone blacking out completely.  _ You really did a number on him. _

 

Alex reached the stairs leading up to Madison’s apartment and paused at the bottom, hands trembling. If John turned him away, refused to speak to him, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it. It would just crush him.  _ Don't be a coward. He would risk it for you. _

 

He pushed himself up the stairway, making his legs move one in front of the other, and knocked on the door. Madison appeared behind it, face in the crack between door and wall, after the longest seconds Alex had ever endured.

 

“Alexander?” James opened the door a little wider. “What are you doing here?” 

 

“Is uh, is John here?”

 

“ _Vous morceau de_ _  merde _ ,” He heard Laf’s voice and the door was yanked open completely, his tall roommate glaring down at him as he shrugged helplessly. “I told you not to come.”

 

“I have to see him.” He pleaded, stepping forward to stand in the doorway, refusing to be shut out. 

 

“It's okay.” Laf opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by John appearing behind them, looking as small and as handsome as ever. Alex didn't breath when they locked eyes, searching desperately for some drop of compassion, of forgiveness. His friend was unreadable. 

 

“You should not be continuously rewarded for ignoring my advice.” Laf scolded him, but tugged Madison out into the hallway, leaving John and Alex alone in the little studio apartment. “C'mon James, I'll buy us coffee.”

 

“It’s my apartment.” James whined as Laf shut the door behind them, their footsteps disappearing into the silence that followed. John just stared at him.

 

“You got suspended?” Alex asked, the space between them feeling more expansive than the grand canyon. John nodded.

 

He was wearing a baggy sweater, one Alex didn't recognize, with his hands shoved in the pockets. It's made him look small, vulnerable, and his hair down only increased the effect. It was a difficult illusion to resist, the illusion that John needed rescuing.  _ The only rescuing he would need is from you, not by you. _

 

“Yeah.” He nodded, not quite meeting Alex’s gaze. “I'm assuming Laf told you?”

 

“I wish you would've told me.” Alex dared, and John finally met his gaze. “John.” His voice cracked. He didn't care. He didn't mind if John knew how broken he was, how much he had missed him, despite it being less than a week. “I am...I am  _ so _ sorry.” He felt a tear escape and quickly wiped it away, but it was followed by others as he continued. “I-I was such an idiot. I  _ never _ meant to hurt you. You  _ know _ the last thing I would ever want is to hurt you. You are the only thing that matters.”

 

He watched John’s eyebrows press closer together as confliction raced across his face, his eyes flashing with what Alex hoped was sympathy or at least pity as his broken display. He was openly crying now, too scared to attempt to move closer to John and too scared to wait for his response. He kept talking, letting his words fill the silence and stretch to fill the volume of the room like water, pouring out and rushing over his mistakes, soaking him.

 

“John I was drunk. I was so drunk. And that's no excuse, I  _ know  _ that.” He remembered that he had said the same thing to Eliza and she had still shut the door on his face.  _ It's not fair, I actually mean what I'm saying. Why can't I fix this?  _ “I wasn't thinking. I  _ never _ think. I'm a stupid selfish idiot.” He was trembling and covered his face with his hands, gasping for air between words, his throat burning and choking him. “ _ John _ .” He was interrupted by his own sobbing, shaking too violently to continue. 

 

“Alexander.” He looked up when a hand touched his shoulder and saw John crying too, not bothering to wipe away the tears staining his freckled cheeks.  _ Please. _ “ _ Alexander _ .” He repeated and Alex couldn't  _ take it _ anymore. He pulled John into a violent hug and gasped aloud when John hugged him back, closing his eyes and letting gratefulness wash over him.

 

_ Oh thank god I didn’t lose you. I will never hurt you again. Oh my John Laurens. _

 

“Alex you…” John pulled back, breathing heavily from his own sobbing, and looked at Alex sternly. “You  _ can't  _ do this to me. I need you, and you can't do this to me. You can't make me hate you.”

 

“John I would die if you hated me.” He whispered and John pulled him back into another hug, Alex savoring the closeness of his body.

 

“You fucking drama queen.” John murmured in his ear and Alex let out a surprised laugh, holding him tightly.

 

“I can't help it John.” He said after a long moment of resting in his arms. “I'm nothing without you.”

 

As if his words set off an alarm, John pulled back. He was red but he looked more uncomfortable than flustered, something Alex didn't know what to make of.

 

“Alex, if I'm going to give you another chance, you can't….do anything like that again.” He returned his hands to his pockets and Alex realized why the jacket was so big. It must be Nathanael’s. “You should know that uh, Nathan and I...we’re dating now. Officially. And I like him a lot.”  _ What were you expecting? _

 

“Congratulations.” The words sounded hollow to his own ears but he knew how convincing his forced sincerity could sound. “I'm happy for you.”

 

“You won't...try anything again, will you?” John shuffled his feet. “You're my best friend, but I don't want to make Nathan uncomfortable whenever I'm around you.” 

 

_ They all think I'm so selfish. Well I can think of other people too, I can push myself to the side. I could be goddamn Mother Teresa if John wanted. _

 

“John,” He laughed awkwardly, slightly forced. “No offense but...I was just drunk. You know that right?” He made himself look into John’s eyes, soft and welcoming and oh so cautious. “I mean, I'm very sorry. But it won’t happen again. Because it was just the alcohol talking.” Alex almost convinced himself, and John just blinked at him.

 

“Oh.” He laughed but it was empty, echoing. “Well uh, that's a relief. At least now I don't have to worry about breaking your heart or anything.”

 

“What heart?” Alex joked, feeling it clench inside of him. Something he couldn't decipher flashed in John’s eyes, gone so quickly he was certain he had imagined it. “So, tell me about this suspension.”

 

“Well, since the person I punched isn't a student anymore, I'm only suspended instead of expelled.” John shrugged, a hint of his signature grin beginning to emerge. “From what I heard I was a badass, I just wish I could remember.”

 

John repeated the story to Alex, heard second-hand from the administrators Seabury had relaid it to. Alex just watched the way his mouth moved, how he motioned with his hands, as if from behind a thick wall of glass. Listening but not really absorbing. 

 

_ You don't love him. You've never been in love, so you wouldn't even know. He's just your best friend. You missed his admiration. If you really were in love with him, you would've realized it sooner. _

 

But would he have? Alex knew himself, he knew how he took things for granted. Maybe it had taken John’s affections slipping away for him to realize…. _ No. Stop it. You don't love him, you just need his love as a constant in you life. And that's selfish. Let his friendship be the constant. Don't hurt him trying to find yourself. _

 

_ And if you do love him,  _ Alex thought to himself, smiling as John did when he explained how terrified Seabury had been, how he had nearly wet his pants at the sight of John.  _ Then prove it by being selfless. Let him love someone else. That's the only way to prove you really love him. _

 

And God, Alex had always hated irony.

 

* * *

 

  
“I don't want to talk about it Maria.” Eliza was laying on her bed facing the wall, trying to hide the puffiness of her eyes, the hiccups she was trying to smother.

 

_ This is the only annoying thing about having a roommate _ . She thought bitterly.  _ I have nowhere to cry to myself. _ The bathrooms were shared by the hall, she literally had no privacy, and she resented Maria for it in this moment.

 

“Don't waste your tears on him.” Maria’s typically neutral voice of stone was tinged with empathy, and Eliza felt the bed sink as Maria sat unwelcome beside her. “I don't advocate slut shaming but….he’s a little manwhore.”

 

Her words-casual, meant to be humorous-sparked a sob out of Eliza, and she curled up, trying to hide her face from her prying roommate.

 

“Eliza.” Maria said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, c’mon. It's not like he was your boyfriend.”

 

“I get that you're trying to be sympathetic,” Eliza’s tone was a biting as she was capable of, which wasn't much. “But it's not making me feel any better, shockingly.”

 

“Look who suddenly grew a spine.” Her roommate remarked coolly, and Eliza sat up.

 

“Maria, can you just leave me alone? I know that you only care about sex and are incapable of love but can you at least  _ try _ to understand how I feel and that I want to be alone?” Maria narrowed her eyes and stood up.

 

“Who said I was incapable of love?” Maria was usually so cold and distant, so reserved in tone and manner, that Eliza forgot that she had feelings. That she was capable of feeling hurt. She stared at her friend guilty, who just rolled her eyes. “Fine. Maybe you won't let me help you. Then it's time to tell your sister.”

 

“No,” Eliza rolled back over. “She treats me like a child. I can handle this myself.”

 

“Yeah, ‘cause that's what you're doing. Handling it by crying all night over a shitty boy.”

 

“You don't even know him.” Eliza whispered hollowly. 

 

She waited for a response and was surprised to hear the door to their room shut, sitting up and finding Maria gone.  _ Oh no. _

 

She laid back down, enjoying her next few moments of peace, praying that Maria wasn't telling Angelica.

 

Ever since she could remember, her older sister had coddled her, tried to fight her battles for her. It was a sweet sentiment, but it had weakened her, made her dependant on someone who had a life of their own, to the point where she followed her sister to college.  _ You made me soft, and I won’t forget it. _

 

She wanted to portray a heart of stone, like Maria, instead of displaying it on her sleeve. She kept getting hurt time and time again for falling too hard, too fast.

 

Like she had that day on the beach.

 

She had been spread out across a beach towel the day of the club bonfire, hoping her fair skin might darken at least a  _ little _ when a very small, very handsome boy had tripped over her feet. She had watched his eyes travel up her legs to her face and had blushed when they met hers, full of something hungry she couldn't quite place.

 

“You alright there? Drunk already?” She had asked, amused by how his cheeks turned pink and he struggled to sit up abruptly.

 

“Unfortunately, I am just as clumsy when sober. Alexander.”

 

He had held out his hand, and she was gone the instant their skin had touched. He brought her a soda and they talked about her gardening club, how he was in debate with Angelica, how they loved New York.

 

“Hey,” He had tilted his head and looked at her, reminding her of the mannerisms a puppy possessed. “Do you want to go down to the water?” 

 

“It'll probably be cold.” The sun was setting, the oranges and pinks of the sky being chased below the horizon by a deep navy. He grinned at her mischievously.

 

“You're just scared to get your feet wet.” He stood up and held out his hand to her. “C’mon.”

 

They slipped away without anybody noticing, him not releasing her hand as they half ran, half slid down the sandy slope that lead to the ocean. Alexander had laughed, tilting his head back freely, and had dared to stick a toe in the waves.

 

“Fuck you're right, it's freezing.”

 

“I am not getting in.” She shook her head. “But if you want to catch a cold I'll watch.”

 

“I have too weak an immune system for that.” He intertwined their fingers, warming her from crown to toe, and sat down, gently pulling her with him.

 

“Let's just watch the sunset. I love how it looks over the city, when all the lights start to come on.” She was watching him watch the sky, enamored. He was so sweet and adorable, and he never let go of her hand.

 

_ How could a boy like that break my heart? _

 

She heard a knock on the door, breaking her from her reverie and storm of self pity, and she sighed deeply.  _ Here we go. _

 

She stood up, rubbing her eyes, and opened the door.

 

She blinked in surprise.

 

“Oh honey.” It was Peggy. She stepped inside the room, Maria on her heels, and wrapped her sister in a tight hug. “You poor thing.” 

 

The affection brought tears back to Eliza’s eyes and she fell into her sister’s embrace, looking at Maria questioningly over her shoulder. The girl shrugged.

 

“You asked me not to tell Angelica. I wasn't going to disrespect what you wanted.”  _ Oh. _

 

She didn't know how to say thank you, was too embarrassed to try, so she simply smiled. Maria seemed to understand, giving her a soft look before laying down on her own bed, shoving headphones into her ears.

 

“I won’t tell Angie. I promise.” Peggy whispered. They both knew how their sister, full of the best intentions, could be. The last thing Eliza wanted was for Angie to legitimately hurt Alexander. She wanted him to face his own guilt. A physical punishment was not only wrong, but it was easy.  _ His penance will be shame, not my sister’s fists. _

 

“Thank you.” Eliza squeezed her tightly and Peggy pulled back to look at her face, tenderness in her young eyes.

 

“Tell me everything.”

 

It was therapeutic, to pour out Maria’s story to her sister. How she had seen Alex kiss John. How Eliza had waited for Alex to tell her himself, and he had the very next day.  _ I can give him credit for that, he was honest. _ How she still just wanted to be with him, despite it all.

 

“Well,” They were seated on the bed, Peggy cross legged behind her, braiding her hair. “It's normal to still want to be with him. It was budding love, and he killed it before it even had time to blossom.”

 

“When did you get so smart?” Eliza sniffled, smiling fondly, and Peggy laughed warmly.

 

“Hanging around you two, silly goose.” Peggy sighed. “I personally think it's best to take a few days, cry about it and eat ice cream, and then move on.”

 

“I don't know that I want to.” She whispered, glad she wasn't facing her sister. “Maybe I'm a terrible judge of character. I thought he was so sweet, and he hurt me. I don't want to feel this way again.”

 

“Don't blame yourself for him being an asshole.” Peggy said sharply. “It's not your fault for not seeing it coming, it's his fault for doing this to you. Anybody would be a  _ fool _ to let you go Eliza.”

 

“Amen.” Maria chimed in from across the room, leading Eliza to suspect she hadn't been playing music at all. She smiled faintly.

 

“You're sweet Peggy.” She turned to face her sister, the braid complete and swinging against her back. “I know I'll be okay. I don't know if this is wrong but…” She fiddled with her braid. “It makes me feel better, knowing how torn up about it he is.”

 

“He should be.” Maria sat up when she spoke, removing her headphones, and Peggy nodded. “He didn't just hurt  _ you _ , that Laurens kid is really in love with him.”

 

_ I know. _ A pang of guilt washed over Eliza. She knew John Laurens. She wasn't sure if he knew her, but they had shared a couple classes over the semester. He was often quiet but when he spoke, he  _ spoke _ . And his love for Alexander Hamilton was something of a legend. Angelica, as well as others from the Queers & Allies club, often spoke of it in pitying tones. Granted, she had not made the connection that day at the beach, but she had since seen the way John looked at Alex. She hadn't cared.  _ He wants me, I'm not doing anything wrong. _ She had thought to herself that day they first kissed in the greenhouse.  _ People can't be stolen. He chose me. _

 

_ Maybe this is my punishment. Knowingly breaking someone else’s heart _ .

 

“Does he?” She replied innocently, once again looking down at her braid. “That poor boy.”

 

“Don't worry about him, worry about you.” Maria looked at her intensely. “There’s other people out there, I promise you. People who would die to have you.”

 

_ Not anybody like him. _ She thought, ignoring Maria’s smouldering gaze.

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: so now that all debts have been paid

french toast: all sins been forgiven

french toast: all crimes been reprieEEEEVED

french toast: I would like to formally announce the RETURN OF THE GROUPCHAT

 

french toast changed the name of the groupchat to: NO LONGER MISERABLES

 

slice of ham: honestly you and les mis

slice of ham: hugh jackman will never love you

french toast: I cannot believe you would just spit on my fantine fantasy

zero to hero: I'm so glad everybody kissed and made up

john tortoise: too soon

slice of ham: even tho that's literally what happened

zero to hero:....

john tortoise:.....

french toast: DID EVERYBODY TRY THE CHICKEN? I THOUGHT THE CHICKEN WAS LOVELY

zero to hero: I hate you and your memes

zero to hero: they make me feel like an old man

john tortoise: apparently that's what laf is into now

slice of ham: you did not go there

 

french toast changed the name of the group chat to: alright john time for me to publicly shame you 

 

john tortoise: why would you name the group chat that instead of typing it out

french toast: DECEMBER 11TH

french toast: 2014

zero to hero: *grabs popcorn* 

french toast: JOHN LAURENS UNKNOWINGLY DRANK AN ENTIRE CARTON OF EGGNOG AND FELL ASLEEP IN THE SNOW

john tortoise: HEY YOU PROMISED NOT TO TELL

john tortoise: I THOUGHT IT WAS MILK

john tortoise: I'M NOT LIKE Y’ALL I DON'T GET DRUNK ON PURPOSE

slice of ham: fight me john laurens

slice of ham: (ง •̀_•́)ง

zero to hero: so...you would intentionally drink an entire carton of milk then….like thats any better

french toast: THREE MONTHS AGO

french toast: FIRST DAY BACK IN THE DORMS

john tortoise: LAF NO

french toast: JOHN SEES AN RA COMING AND DOESN'T WANT TO BE CAUGHT WITH AN EDIBLE

french toast: SO HE EATS THE ENTIRE THING AT ONCE

zero to hero: OH MY FUCKING GOD

john tortoise: I saw….the face….of satan

slice of ham: oh you poor boy

french toast: he literally was high for twenty four hours

french toast: he painted my cabinet black to cover up the really eerie turtles he drew

slice of ham: THAT'S WHY IT CHANGED COLOR

slice of ham: I THOUGHT I WAS LOSING MY MIND

zero to hero: laf remind me to never ever ever upset you

french toast: yeah I have the #receipts on all of you

french toast: watch ur fuckin back

zero to hero: also @ john did I mention how fucking proud I am of you for kicking lee’s ass

french toast: oh tru my knight in shining armor, defending my honor

john tortoise: thanks wish I could remember ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

slice of ham: been there my friend 

french toast: Alex you black out after like five shots

slice of ham: I AM SMALL

zero to hero: you are smol 

zero to hero: there is a huge difference 

french toast: very true. “small” pertains to size. “smol” is a way of life

french toast: it's funny because it usually means something pure/good

french toast: whereas you are a piece of shit(:

 

slice of ham changed the name of the group chat to: h8ters are my motiv8tors

 

french toast: you idiot

french toast: you don't need to put a T after the 8

french toast: it already ends in a T

john tortoise: hatTers are my motivatTors

slice of ham: do not grammar shame me

slice of ham: I want you to think long and hard on this moment next time you need to copy someone's homework

french toast: I am always thinking long and hard

french toast: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

zero to hero: YOU KNOW I HATE THAT GUY

john tortoise: don't assume it's a guy wtf

zero to hero: God you millenials

zero to hero: so politically correct 

french toast: I'm literally older than you

zero to hero: (:

slice of ham: guys we need to have a celebratory dinner

slice of ham: a) for john nearly killing lee and b) for Laf WINNING HIS TRIAL

french toast: it was not a trial but thANK YOU

zero to hero: can we go to that one broadway restaurant

zero to hero: I like feeling fancy

john tortoise: SARDIS

slice of ham: John and laf get to pick

slice of ham: our honored guests

zero to hero: why do you take everything good away from me

french toast: I am down for sardi’s

french toast: since I'm the hero y'all better be paying

slice of ham: you are literally rich

slice of ham: you are swimming in money

french toast: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

john tortoise: is it sardi’s or nah should I break out the bowtie

slice of ham: dear god please break out the bowtie

zero to hero: apparently it's only up to the two of you so

french toast: aw he's pouting

french toast: sardi’s it is

zero to hero: !!!!!!!!!!

zero to hero: I'm getting those cheese ravioli things

french toast: darling they are too creamy for you last time you got a tummy ache

zero to hero: YEAH WELL YOU DRINK YOURSELF INTO A COMA PRACTICALLY EVERY PARTY AND I DON'T COMMENT

french toast: i am feeling very attacked

slice of ham: so like two hours? Meet there?

zero to hero: anybody who wants a ride meet at my dorm 

french toast: u guys are just gonna let him talk to me like that

slice of ham: you can handle it yourself didn’t you just say you had the #receipts

french toast: I was just discharged from a hospital…..i just escaped an evil courtroom

john tortoise: laf it's not like herc was wrong

french toast: I CHANGED MY MIND

french toast: I WANNA EAT AT OLIVE GARDEN

slice of ham: FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD

slice of ham: DON'T FUCKING TEASE ME I LOVE OLIVE GARDEN

john tortoise: so no bowtie

zero to hero: this friendship is abolished 

french toast: friendship is a strong word(:

john tortoise: do I wear a bowtie

slice of ham: please do

slice of ham: olive garden is my church I'll feel personally disrespected if you don't

zero to hero: Alex why do i feel like you somehow manipulated this conversation to end with us at olive garden

slice of ham: how could I have done that

slice of ham: (:

john tortoise: okay so im wearing the bowtie

zero to hero: you and that bowtie 

french toast: it's so adorable im going to end up kissing you next

slice of ham: #triggered 

zero to hero: okay so the five of us meet at olive garden in like an hour ?

john tortoise: wait but can we still have a ride?

zero to hero: yes

slice of ham: wait you said five

slice of ham: the five of us????

zero to hero: john's bowtie

slice of ham: oh thank god

french toast: who did you think he meant alex?

 

Alex chose not to reply to Laf’s message and laid back on the bed, sighing heavily. He knew eventually he'd have to get used to Nathan, have to learn to place nice with the boy who was kissing the only person he’d ever been in love with. But he was just grateful it didn't have to start tonight.

 

His phone buzzed again but this time it was just John instead of the groupchat, renamed  _ Oatmeal  _ once again in the conversation that continued after he left.

 

john tortoise: hey so disclaimer 

john tortoise: I thought you should know that nathan knows everything

john tortoise: I just mean about the kiss and how you and I are friends again and that he shouldn't be worried

john tortoise: he shouldn't be worried should he?

 

Alex was furious at himself for feeling like crying when he saw the messages and quickly composed himself when footsteps approached and the door swung open.

 

“Alright. If John is wearing a bowtie I have to look fan- _ fucking _ -tastic.” Laf announced, swinging open the closet doors. Alex sniffled involuntarily and cringed when Laf turned to face him. “You okay?” 

 

“I'm fine. Just catching a cold.” Laf shrugged, either convinced by Alex’s perpetually weak immune system or knowing better than to press him.

 

slice of ham: you should tell him, he's your boyfriend

slice of ham: he doesn't hate me does he?

slice of ham: and worried about what?

john tortoise: he doesn't hate you, he's not the type to hate anyone

john tortoise: worried about you kissing me again

slice of ham: you trust me don't you?

john tortoise: of course

slice of ham: it doesn't sound like it

john tortoise: Alex

slice of ham: John 

slice of ham: it feels like you're asking me if I'm gonna try and steal you from him

john tortoise: I trust you

slice of ham: trust me, I don't do the dating thing. Drunk Alex will watch his manners but ur tall boyfriend doesn't have to worry about sober Alex

john tortoise: okay

 

“Are we catching a ride with Herc?” Laf asked after they both had changed.

 

Lafayette looked like a vision in a dark gray button up and his signature painted on black jeans. Alex was wearing a nicer looking jacket over his shirt, not really interested in dressing to the nines. He didn't have the heart for it.

 

“You can. I feel kinda like walking.” Laf stared at him curiously.

 

“Then I'll walk with you.”  _ My best friend.  _ Alex smiled grateful at Laf for not asking questions, not badgering him, just holding his arm and walking with him in silence down the city streets to the restaurant. 

 

Herc’s car was in the parking lot and they quickly located their friend’s table, the basket of breadsticks already empty.

 

“You fuckers.” Laf sat down next to Herc and Alex sat by John, who looked unfairly adorable in a red bowtie. “You ate all the breadsticks and it's been what, twenty minutes?”

 

“The refills are free,” Herc replied, chewing, and Laf stole the half eaten breadstick from his

plate.

 

“I like the bowtie.” Alex nudged John, silently asking  _ are we okay? _

 

“I'll get you a matching one so we can go out looking dapper as fuck.”  _ Yeah, we’re okay _ .

 

“So who's paying for me?” Laf asked, examining his menu, and Alex rolled his eyes.

 

“Your allowance could pay my tuition. You should buy  _ us _ dinner.”

 

“I'm paying for Laf.” Here said, to no one’s real surprise, and Lafayette kissed his cheek.

 

“ _ Merci  _ my sweet Disney prince.”

 

“Pretty sure Hercules wasn't a prince he was just a god.” John observed and exchanged smiles with Alex.

 

The waiter brought another basket of breadsticks, which Lafayette promptly attacked, and smiled at them. 

 

“Hello gentlemen. I'll be taking care of you tonight. Can I get you started with anything to drink?”  _ God damn he is gorgeous. _

 

“I will take a glass of Merlot for me and my large friend. The others are much too young to drink. They are but mere children.” Lafayette said and the handsome waiter laughed good naturedly as Laf flashed his ID.

 

“Well alright then. And for you two?” 

 

He took their drink orders and the second be was out of sight, Lafayette slapped Alex.

 

“Ow! Laf what-”

 

“Sex on a stick waiter was definitely checking you out Alex!” He said excitedly. Alex’s eyes flickered to John, who was dipping his breadstick in olive oil with a neutral expression.

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah.” Herc nodded in agreement. “If only Laf hadn't made that age comment.”

 

“Eh, that waiter looked pretty young himself.” Laf shrugged, inhaling another breadstick. “He's gotta be like what, twenty? Alex is twenty.”

 

“I turn twenty one in January.” He grumbled and glanced behind him at the waiter. “What should I do? Try and sleep with him?”

 

As he asked he looked at John, trying to read his face. Hoping for some modicum of disappointment to be present in his eyes. But John just smiled at him.

 

“Yeah you should. He's really cute.” Alex narrowed his eyes.

 

“Fine. I will.” 

 

“Good.” John said casually. Herc and Lafayette exchanged glances as the waiter came back. Alex paid attention this time as he took their orders and sure enough, his eyes kept flickering to Alex.

 

“Herc,” John commented, watching him finish his second glass. “Please don't get wine drunk. You were my ride here.” 

 

“I'll drive us back.” Alex said and Laf grinned at him, clearly already feeling it.

 

“Good man!” Laf’s voice was a little too loud and John and Alex looked at one another with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.

 

“And we’re the immature ones.” John joked, another equally attractive waiter filling up their glasses yet again. “That's okay sir, I think our friends have had enough wine for now.”

 

“I'll decide when I've had enough.” Laf mumbled an Alex touched his arm.

 

“The food isn't even here yet.”

 

“God, I'm glad we didn't pick Sardi’s.” John said, and the waiter arrived with their orders.

 

“Enjoy.” He said, gaze lingering on Alex, and the boy smirked. 

 

“I would literally murder all of you for pasta.” Laf announced, stabbing several meatballs on his fork and shoving them whole into his mouth.

 

“I would like to be embarrassed, but I know he would act this way sober.” Alex looked at John, who laughed and pointed to Herc.

 

“He wouldn't.”

 

Herc was, for unfathomable reasons, meticulously picking apart a breadstick into tiny crumbs before eating the small pieces.

 

“For someone so huge, he's such a lightweight.” John nodded in agreement, then looked at Alex with glittering eyes.

 

“Hey, wanna ditch them for a minute and smoke in the parking lot?”

 

“You read my fucking mind.” He turned to the two buzzed boys. “Hey we'll be right back.”

 

He grabbed Herc’s keys and followed John to the car, climbing into the backseat and trying to ignore the implications of that.

 

“I admire how, no matter where we are, you always seem to have weed on you.” Alex said as John pulled a joint from his jacket pocket, smirking at him.

 

“Oh, don't let the bowtie fool you. I'm always ready to get baked.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he lit the end, raising the joint to his lips and taking only a small hit before passing it to Alex.  _ Ever the gentleman. _

 

“I wonder,” Alex coughed after several hits. “what Herc will think of us hot boxing his car.”

 

“He’s too tipsy to even notice.” John flicked the ash out the window, taking another long drag, and Alex stared at him.  _ When the smoke is in your eyes, you look so alive.  _ The lyrics jumped into his head, more than likely influenced by the pleasant haze he was feeling, and he smiled at John.  _ I'll take you one day at a time, soon you will be mine. _ He shook his head to clear it of the faint melody.

 

“So,” He glanced out the window. “How long does the suspension last for?”

 

“A week.” John held out the last of the joint to Alex, who shook his head, then shrugged and finished the tiny stub. “It really bites that I'm not even allowed on campus.”

 

“I can pick up your homework for you, so you don't fall behind.” Alex offered and John looked down uncomfortably.

 

“Uh, thanks but Nathan’s already doing that for me.”  _ Ah. _

 

“That's sweet of him.” Alex mentally patted himself on the back for how casual he sounded, as if every mention of that gigantic asshole didn't send spikes down his spine.  _ I'm too high to care,  _ he lied to himself.

 

“Yeah. I’m really touched that Madison is letting me stay with him. I don't even know him that well, he just automatically offered.” 

 

“He's a sweetheart.” Alex nodded in agreement, remembering when he'd been involved in a group project with him.

 

It had been them paired together with Jay in an advanced english course to write a huge research paper. When Jay caught walking pneumonia, however, he’d spent a lot of time with James.

 

It hadn't taken much time, with long nights together and essentially never sleeping, for James to start looking at him with that expression Alex knew like the back of his hand. It was like a drug to him, watching people’s eyes fill with admiration and desire when they looked at him. He couldn't resist the pull of that drug, and he didn't bother to try. They had slept together. Alex hadn't called back. He never did, he had wrongly assumed that James was educated on his nature. Alexander didn't do relationships. 

 

_ And this is your penance. The one time you actually want to date someone… _

 

James, a man scorned, had eventually become Thomas Jefferson’s best friend, probably over a mutual hatred of Alex. He had since made up with James, who was now in love with Thomas, and had been for almost two years. Alex was a little insulted, that James fell for Jefferson as a rebound. 

 

“We should head back.” John opened the car door and crushed the remaining ashes between his heel and the pavement.

 

Laf and Herc seemed not to even have noticed their departure and, now equally not sober, John and Alex quickly devoured their food.

 

“How are we splitting the check?” Handsome waiter asked, and Herc pointed to Laf.

 

“He’s with me.”

 

“And we’re separate.” John said, even though Alex would gladly pay for him if it meant people thinking they were a couple. The waiter smirked and nodded, and brought them back their checks as well as boxes for Laf’s unfinished pasta.

 

“Oh shit.” Alex said, looking at his receipt. There was a phone number, signed  _ xoxo -John. _

 

“His name is John.” Laf observed, then started cackling loudly. Alex crumpled the receipt and stood up as he felt his face grow warm, not daring to glance at the boy seated beside him.

 

“C'mon let's go. I'll drive.” 

 

Alex gripped the wheel as he sped off, thankful that it was Lafayette in the passenger seat beside him. It was never a question who rode shotgun.  _ “I am practically a prince in my country so the least you Americans can do is let me ride shotgun.” _ He always joked.

 

He hated that he couldn't glance in the rearview mirror to see John, couldn't even bring himself to lift his eyes.  _ Idiot, this is how you made him feel for years.  _

 

He stepped harder on the gas, proud of himself for breezing through the city traffic as if he had been born here.

 

* * *

 

 

“Monsieur Washington.” Lafayette approached his desk after the rest of the class slipped away through the tall doors. “It is good to see you back.”

 

The last time he had seen George had been the morning after his board meeting, when he woke up on his couch with a mild hangover. 

 

Lafayette had seen George standing in the kitchen, his clothing a contrast of professional and intimately casual. He wore black slacks, a belt around his hips, and a white tank top, revealing more skin than Laf had ever seen on the man.

 

He had gulped at the sight.

 

He’d stood up, bare feet cold on the tile, and made as much noise shuffling the blankets as possible. He didn't want to sneak up on George, was afraid to catch him off guard. He knew he had already crossed a boundary just by being here, and now the lines were too blurred.  _ If I make it weird George will be turned off to me forever.  _ Although Lafayette was beginning to suspect that the professor felt a little more for him than just teacherly affection.  _ Why else would be let me sleep here? In his home? _

 

“Good morning.” George said, turning to him and blinking sleepily. “Would you like some coffee?”  _ Jesus, I can't do this domesticity. This is unfair to my heart. _

 

“ _ Merci _ .” Laf said, crossing to the kitchen to take a mug from George’s hands.

 

The cup was warm in his hands, a familiar comfort, and had closed his eyes, lifting the mug to his face and letting the steam envelope him.

 

When he’d opened his eyes, George was watching him.

 

They had both simultaneously blinked and looked away, George turning around to pour himself a cup and Laf lifting the mug to his lips.

 

“Um, thank you for letting me sleep here.” Lafayette said after a long moment of silent coffee drinking. George just nodded.

 

The air had been heavy with tension, neither of them really knowing how to act without the alcohol as a barrier. With nothing between them but their feelings and the gray light of morning.

 

“I should actually go.” Lafayette set the empty mug down in the sink and smiled at George gratefully. “Thank you...for everything.”

 

“Of course Lafayette.” George had said softly, and Laf had gathered his things and slipped away like a spirit; quickly and as if he had never been there at all.

 

The memory warmed him, how he and George had laughed together by the fireplace, how George had looked at him like Laf was some kind of phenomenon. He wanted to drown in that look.

 

“Good to be back.” George responded gruffly, not looking up from whatever he was scribbling down in his notebook. Laf rested his palms on the desk, leaning forward.

 

“So, should we meet Thursday at the usual time? Or should we wait until next week, get settled?” George’s hands stilled for an instant, so briefly Laf thought he imagined it, then he continued writing, eyes remaining downward.

 

“I've reviewed your recent works actually and I have concluded you no longer require tutoring. Your english is wonderful.” Lafayette blinked.

 

“That's fine, saves us wasting time on boring academic talk. So Thursday then? I'll bring the coffee.” George finally looked at him, eyes tired. Distant. 

 

“Gilbert-”

 

“Its Lafayette.” Laf whispered.

 

“ _ Gilbert _ ,” He repeated more sternly, voice cold. “I don't think the meetings are necessary any longer. If you require additional assistance, the library provides free tutors every Tuesday.”  _ George. _

 

“I...I do not understand.” Laf said softly, face vulnerable and painted heavily with every emotion he felt. He cursed himself when he felt his eyes water.  _ Why must you wear your heart on your sleeve?  _ George sighed.

 

“Gilbert, it's not longer necessary. Nor is it...safe.”

 

“Safe?” Lafayette echoed, throat dry. “I do not care about that. Don't you understand that I-”

 

“ _ Gilbert. _ ” He said loudly and abruptly, startling Laf to the point of silence, mouth still open with his unspoken sentence.

 

Lafayette felt the tears stinging his eyes threatening to pour over and he took a deep breath and straightened his spine. Hardened himself.

 

“My apologies.” He said in an even tone, taking a step backwards. “ _ General. _ ”

 

He turned and left the classroom, not daring to let himself pause and think until he reached his dorm room. 

 

And even once inside, he squeezed his eyes shut tight. Didn't think. Didn't breath.

 

Just shook his head and turned to his phone, practicing smiling to himself.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey.” A voice behind Alex said, in line for the campus library’s Starbucks. Alex turned around and immediately had to look up to see the speaker.  _ Oh dear fucking God, of course. _

 

“Um, hey.” He said to Nathanael. John’s  _ boyfriend _ .

 

_ Why did he have to fucking say hi to me? We aren't friends. He could've done the polite thing and pretended not to recognize me and I would‘ve pretended not to recognize him and we could’ve both just grabbed our pumpkin spice lattes and gone. Now I have to look him in the eyes and pretend that I don't wanna fuck his boyfriend.  _

 

“How are you?” Nathan said, not looking the slightest bit uncomfortable. Just a friendly, boy-next-door kind of smile gracing his face.  _ Fuck you. _

 

“Fine.” Alex shrugged. “Just uh, tired I guess.”

 

“Worried about John?” He asked and Alex looked at him suspiciously. But his tone and eyes carried no animosity.  _ Why bring him up? _

 

“I know he's fine.” Alex said a little defensively. “A week isn't that long. I'll see him soon.”

 

“Do you love him?” He asked in that same casual tone and Alex nearly tripped, glancing around to see if anyone was listening in on their conversation.

 

“What?!”

 

“I asked if you love him.” He eyed Alex coolly, who just stared at him blankly.

 

“That's not really your business.” Alex shoved his hands into his coat pockets.

 

“It kinda is. Since he's my boyfriend.” Alex wished Nathan would raise his voice. Wished he would at least act upset, Alex didn't know how to handle this composed interrogation. 

 

“Then yeah,” Alex looked up at him, craning his neck to meet his eyes. “I do.”  _ And he used to love me. _

 

“I figured.” Nathanael said and his tone finally shifted, to one of defeat. Alex hated him but the absolute misery in his eyes made Alex feel like an ass.

 

“Hey, don't look at me like that. He's dating you not me.”  _ He chose you. _

 

“That may be, but I don't trust you.” It wasn't the height difference that made Alex feel so small.  _ Goddamit this is the weirdest conversation I've ever had. _ “He has feelings for you still, and I don't trust you to leave him alone.”

 

“He's my best friend.” Alex’s eyes narrowed. “You're right, I'm not going to leave him alone. But I'm not going to  _ steal _ him. People can't be stolen, they chose to leave.”

 

“No but they can be persuaded. And that just sounds like an expression thieves use to comfort themselves.” Nathan sighed then nodded ahead, letting Alex know he was next in line. “I'm just saying if you try anything, I’m not letting him go without a fight.  _ One _ of us actually values him, so.” He shrugged and Alex glowered, turning around to face him fully.

 

“You think I don't value him?” He stuck a finger at Nathan’s chest. “You haven't even known him two  _ months _ . I could tell you his first memory. I could tell you  _ exactly _ how he eats his fucking cereal. I know him like I know myself, and I would do  _ anything _ for him.”

 

“Well, you have an interesting way of showing it.”

 

“ _ Next _ !” The barista said loudly, tone dripping with annoyance and Alex turned around and ordered his coffee, hands shaking with anger.

 

It came out quickly and he grabbed it and stormed off, not looking back at Nathan, not trusting himself to not throw a punch. 

 

_ For John _ . He reminded himself, coffee scalding his tongue but he didn't care.  _ Don't fight with him, don't try to take John from him. Do it for John. Do it for John. _

 

* * *

 

“Can you imagine the  _ fucking nerve _ of that guy?!” Alex exclaimed, flopping back on his bed in exasperation, his relentless pacing having made him tired.

 

“Oh I know.” Lafayette said dryly, lying adjacent to Alex in his own bed, not looking up from his phone. “Showing his face in Starbucks? He's got some balls.”

 

“Bite me.” Alex’s tone held no animosity, only exhaustion. “I hate him. I mean, I  _ seriously _ hate him. He comes up to me out of the fucking blue, acting oh so sweet and sincere, then gives me the puppy dog eyes and asks me not to be friends with John.”

 

“Maybe he's right.” Laf out his phone down and sat up, legs hanging over the side of his bed. Alex sat up abruptly, mirroring his position. 

 

“ _ What _ ?”

 

“Maybe you shouldn't be friends with John. It's too painful for you, because you love him.” Alex scoffed.

 

“Why should that mean I can't be his  _ friend _ ? He was in love with me and was my friend for like, two years.”

 

“ _ Oui,  _ and it tore him up. You are not strong like him Alex.” Laf sighed, leaning back on his palms. “You and I both know that all somebody has to do is bat their eyes at you and you just  _ have _ to have them. Don't hurt John because of your nature. Just stop being his friend for a couple months and you'll get over it.”

 

“This isn't like you.” Alex said hoarsely. “ _ Comment pouvez-vous être si cruel? _ ”  _ Why are you being so cruel? _

 

“Because love isn't as sweet and dreamy as you think it is.” Laf hissed, not shouting but tone as sharp and poignant as if he were. “You don't love John, you just want to fuck him.” Alex raised an eyebrow, then nodded.

 

“I get it. This is about Washington isn't it?”

 

“ _ Shut up _ .” Lafayette glared at him. “You don't know anything.”

 

“It  _ is _ about Washington.” Alex smirked, Laf scowling in return. “You want to fuck him.”

 

“And you want to fuck John.” He growled.

 

“You  _ love _ him.” Alex sang, speaking over him, and Laf jumped to his feet.

 

“I  _ do not _ .” He breathed, fists clenched, and Alex grew even more smug as he leaned back.

 

“Then prove it.”

 

Lafayette visibly relaxed, mood immediately shifting from anger to annoyance.

 

“Oh, so we’re doing this now?” Lafayette locked eyes at him and Alex just blinked. “Fine. You want me to prove it?”

 

He stared at him a moment longer, both unblinking, before Lafayette crossed the room in a single stride. He grasped Alex’s face with both hands, aggressively and roughly, and kissed him. Alex responded immediately, pulling him closer and Laf swung his legs around either side of him, straddling him.

 

Lafayette pressed against him and kissed him harder, a clash of teeth and tongue, and Alex ran his hands under Laf’s shirt, promptly the boy to tear it off up over his head.

 

“I'm not John you know.” He whispered in Alex’s ear, grinding their hips together. 

 

“And I'm not George.” Alex said, and tugged off his own shirt.

 

* * *

 

 

“Remind me to buy James a brownie. Or a fruit basket or something.” Nathan said, tossing a stone over the railing and watching it skim over the Hudson.

 

“Oh, if you have fruit basket connections, I want in.” Nathan laughed and, grinning, John attempted to skip his own stone, which promptly sunk.

 

“Aww,” Nathan teased, wrapping his arms around John from behind him. “I guess not everyone is naturally amazing at stone skipping.”

 

“Shut up.” John said, blushing when Nathan rested his chin on his head. “You make me feel like an armrest.”

 

“It's not my fault you're short.” John turned around indignantly, intending to defend himself, but Nathan quickly swooped down and stole a kiss. “Well I never.” Nathan laughed again and took his hand, continuing their walk along the area John was beginning to think of as  _ their  _ spot.

 

“Ya know, you never told me why you got suspended.” Nathanael said thoughtfully after a moment. “Did you kill a man?”

 

“Almost.” John shrugged, embarrassed to bring up an event he not only regretted, but could not remember. _Actually, I don't regret it. He would've killed Laf._ _I regret drinking, I wish I could remember the look on his face._ “I kicked this idiot’s ass.”

 

“Wow, I had no idea you were a bad boy.” Nathan joked and John chuckled.

 

“It’d be more badass if I could remember it. I was drunk, but Lee had it coming so-.”

 

“Lee?” John looked up to see the smile had dropped from Nathan’s face. Both stopped walking. “As in  _ Charles _ Lee?”

 

“Uh yeah.” John licked his lips uncomfortably. “Do you...know him?”

 

“Know him?” Nathan blinked. “He's my best friend.”

 

“What the fuck?” John took a step back on instinct. “Since when? Why am I just now hearing about this?”

 

“Well, he and I aren't as close anymore.” Nathan said defensively. “But I've known him since  _ high school _ .”

 

“He kicked the shit out of Lafayette!” John couldn't fathom what he was hearing.

 

“I didn't know that was him!” Nathan stammered, raising his hands in defense. “I'm sorry, I had no idea that was him.”

 

“I can't fucking believe this.” John started to pace and then caught himself.  _ I'm not Alex. _ He took a deep breath. “I just don't understand why you didn't tell me.”

 

“I didn't realize it mattered.” Nathan looked at him helplessly. “I like hearing about your friends, I just didn't get the chance to bring mine up.”

 

“Oh, so this is my fault?” He snapped. “For talking too much?”

 

“John.” Nathan stepped towards him and placed his hands on John’s shoulders, eyes full of sincerity. “That's not what I meant.” John closed his eyes and exhaled.

 

“I know, I'm sorry. I don't want to pick a fight.”

 

“What do you want me to do? Stop being his friend?” Nathan’s tone suggested that was ridiculous. John looked up at him.

 

“Yes.”

 

“What?” Nathan blinked. “I….John he's my oldest friend. He can be an ass but….he's family.”

 

“And he almost killed my family.” John stepped away from him, breaking their contact, and looked up at Nathan with a mixture of sternness and affection. “I care about you a  _ lot _ , but I am just not comfortable with that.”

 

“Alright.” Nathan’s eyes darkened slightly, and he stepped closer once more. “Let's compromise. You are more important to me than anymore, so I will do that for you. I will stop talking to Charles.” John let out a breath. “But,” Nathan continued “I want you to do something for me.”

 

“That's fair babe. What is it?” Nathan closed his eyes.

 

“I want you to stop talking to Alex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vous morceau de merde=you piece of shit
> 
> Yay burr and peggy make their appearances!!
> 
> lol i love angst my poor otps


	8. Chapter 8

 

slice of ham: so are we gonna talk about it

french toast: talk about what

slice of ham: very funny

french toast: let's just not

french toast: and say we did

slice of ham: laf

 

It wasn't the first time they had slept together, not with the sex drives they possessed. They lived together, they both loved men, they both found the other incredibly attractive. It was just something that occasionally occurred with no lasting effects on their friendship thus far. 

 

The only time Alex could recall it even being slightly weird was the first time it happened.

 

Lafayette was still very new to the school, new to America, and Alex barely had a couple years worth of experience on him. His French roommate, enigmatic and mysterious and full of life, wasn't really a concern of his. Sure, he thought Lafayette was sweet and entertaining but he didn't have the time to teach someone English. Knowing himself, he’d probably slip into Spanish by accident. 

 

“ _ Hey, I think we have a couple classes together. _ ” Laf observed, in French, one night. “ _ We should walk together. _ ”

 

“Yeah that'd be fun. I mean uh,  _ that would be fine _ .” Alex reminded himself to minimize his English. He didn't want the boy to feel alienated.

 

He was meticulously reading over the textbooks for his history course, the semester not even having officially begun yet, when he heard his roommate moan loudly and fall back on his bed.

 

“ _ I am so bored. There is no one and nothing to do on this campus _ .” He sat up on his elbows. “ _ Alexander _ , how you say, ah, I wish to go finding boys?”

 

“Find boys.” Alex corrected with a smile, highlighting a passage and failing to notice Laf’s intense gaze.

 

“ _ You know, _ ” The Frenchman continued, apparently having given up on the English for now. “ _ I have not yet had sex in America. _ ”

 

Alex raised an eyebrow, the text suddenly hard to focus on.  _ I see what you're doing. _

 

There had been no explicit discussion of sexuality between the two of them, but Alex had figured out through deductive reasoning that Lafayette’s was very fluid. He made many comments about the men he found beautiful, at the very least.

 

But Alex had never dropped such hints. Lafayette’s statement was open ended, an invitation. Alex could ignore it and there would be no strange tension between them.  _ Or… _

 

“ _ You know, that's funny, _ ” Alex said, slightly turning in his chair to look at Lafayette. “ _ I haven't ever had sex in an American dorm room. Huh. _ ”

 

“ _ Huh, _ ” Laf had echoed, tone adopting an edge that made Alex’s heart begin to pound. “ _ Now what are we going to do about that?” _

 

It had been mind blowingly amazing. Neither of them knew the other one well yet, so both had put their best effort into trying to please the other, decipher exactly what made them moan and writhe under each other’s lips and fingertips.

 

And then the next day, Alex had walked in on him underneath someone else.

 

The moment Alex swung open the door, let his eyes adjust to the sight, he had attempted to immediately turn and leave. Give them their privacy. 

 

“ _ Wait! _ ” Lafayette had shouted at him, shoving the skinny boy off of him. “Go home!” He said to him in a thick accent, and the confused kid scrambled to put on his pants and run.

 

“Damn,” Alex shut the door. “ _ You didn't have to kick him out before he even finished on my behalf _ .” Laf rolled his eyes.

 

“ _ He wasn't doing much for me anyway. _ ” He looked up at Alex, eyes a little shy but chin thrust out unapologetically. “ _ Sorry if that….offended you. But I do not want you to think we are more than we are. _ ”

 

That thoroughly amused Alexander. He was accustomed to having to be the heartbreaker, having to be seen as a stone cold casanova because he only wanted something physical, despite his always being clear with his intentions. He smiled at Laf.

 

“ _ Don't worry. Sex was all I wanted too. You didn't hurt me. _ ”

 

“ _Huh_.” Laf raised an eyebrow, looking taken aback. Alex had wondered if it was the same for Laf, always the heartbreaker, never the broken. _Look at him, of course he’s a_ _maneater._ Laf’s expression quickly shifted to a smirk. “ _Then want to come over here and finish what he started?_ ”

 

It was a tempting offer. Lafayette was shirtless, pants slid halfway down his legs, and was casually sprawled out on the bed, looking like some kind of perfectly sculpted greek God.

 

“ _ Wait _ ,” Alex closed his eyes to the sight regretfully. “ _ I don't think we should. _ ” Laf made a whining sound.

 

“ _ Why not?”  _ He stared at Alex, then sighed. “ _ Is it because we are roommates?” _

 

“ _ Partially _ .” Alex sat down beside him on the bed, Lafayette almost unconsciously moving closer. “ _ I just….I think we could be friends if we don't screw this up. You and I are cut from the same cloth.” _ Laf snorted.

 

“ _ So? We don't have to be friends. We’ll get assigned a new roommate next year, we’ll find new people to fuck _ .” He placed a hand on Alex’s thigh. “ _ Why not have our fun now? _ ”

 

“Just listen,” Alex said, too sexually frustrated to speak in French, particularly with Laf’s fingers gently tapping against him. Laf blinked at him, understanding of English still very vague, and Alex took a breath. “ _ Look, I would much rather be your friend. We could sleep with anybody else, but look at the two of us. We are both immigrants, new to this country that probably doesn't want us. We are both...promiscuous and don't shame others for being so. We are both men of color, we are both queer, we both speak French fluently. I mean, you don't even speak English.” _ Alex looked into his eyes sincerely. “ _ Those are all attributes people don't want around, and we have them  _ **_all_ ** _ in common. We could just get new roommates every year, or we could request each other. We could be friends. The world is really lonely Lafayette, I’d rather a kindred spirit than a fuck buddy.” _

 

“Wow.” Laf shook his head, pulling his hand away and holding it in his lap. “ _ That was sweet Alexander.  _ I am, how you say, being touched.”

 

“You are touched, not being touched.” Alex corrected him and Laf grinned slyly.

 

“ _ I would like to be. _ ” He pressed against Alex, placing a hand on his chest and taking him by surprise pushing him backwards against the mattress and hovering over him. “ _ You are right Alex. I would very much like to be your friend. We are similar, we think the same. So you should be able to tell me what I am thinking right now.” _

 

_ “You're thinking,” _ Alex’s voice was thick. “ _ That we should be friends, but friends with benefits? _ ”

 

“ _ Close. _ ” Laf pressed his lips to Alex’s neck, hands already sliding under the hemline of his jeans. “ _ I was thinking that, if we are to be friends instead of lovers, we should have sex at least one last time. Non? _ ”

 

“Alright, what's the harm in that?” Alex breathed, and kissed the mouth of the boy he would   consider his closest family. 

 

Whenever they did hook up after that, on the rare but passionate occasions, they had only one real rule. It was unspoken but definitive.

 

Don't talk about it.

 

And Alex was breaking that rule, he knew. But they had never before been in love, never before used one another to get over somebody else. It felt like more than just casual sex, it felt  _ wrong. _

 

He sighed when Lafayette didn't answer and hit the call icon. The phone rang several times before he finally heard Laf’s annoyed breath.

 

“Alexander, what is it? I was in the middle of class.”

 

“We really need to talk Laf.” Alex said, in a tone that allowed no room for argument. Laf knew how stubborn Alex could be, he had to realize Alex simply wouldn't stop. “The roof?”

 

“Better bring fucking Spinelli’s.” Laf grumbled and hung up.

 

Alex smiled in relief and immediately grabbed his jacket to head to the campus Italian takeout place. 

 

“Can I get a box of pepperoni please, two iced teas, an order of alfredo pasta, and two orders of breadsticks?” Alex was eternally grateful that his full ride scholarship covered food on campus, with the amount his roommate alone could eat.

 

The food nearly scalded his arms as he carried the boxes back to the building, balancing it precariously on one arm while he jiggled the knob to the small door around the back. Unlocked.

 

For God knows what purpose, the group had learned freshman year that Lafayette was adept at lock picking. This had lead to a forbidden and ridiculously awesome hang out spot; the roof of their dorm building.

 

He trudged up the stairs and Lafayette was waiting for him on the flat, lower roof level, sitting cross legged on a blanket with his back to Alex.  _ Hey that's my blanket, asshole. _

 

Alex sat down across from him and handed him his tea, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice.

 

“I love inauthentic Italian food.” Laf commented, tearing into the pasta. Alex swallowed, taking a chug of iced tea, then looked at him.

 

“We need to talk.”

 

“About what Alex?” Lafayette didn't look up from the noodles he was twirling around his fork. “I don't know why you're making this into such a big deal, we’ve fucked before.” 

 

“It’s not just that.” Alex sighed. “We’re brothers Laf, and you haven't been talking to me. You haven't talked about what happened with Lee, you haven't talked about the meeting, you haven't talked about Washington. I don't get it, and I don't like it.” His friend had stopped moving, and Alex reached over to place his hand over Laf’s. “You’ll sleep with me but not actually talk. You're closing in on yourself, and I don't know why, but I'm not gonna let you do this.”

 

Lafayette exhaled shakily and Alex felt his hand tremble under his own.

 

“ _ I fear that if I talk about it Alexander _ ,” He whispered, in French. “ _ I will collapse. I will explode. _ ”

 

“I'm here.” Alex said softly. “Explode in front of me, not when you're alone and can't take it anymore.”

 

Lafayette made a sound like a sob and looked away in shame, setting down his bowl of pasta and wrapping his arms around himself, holding his elbows. 

 

“Alexander, I thought I was going to  _ die _ .” He said hollowly, and Alex knew immediately what he meant. He rubbed Laf’s back and scooted closer, trying to smother his rage at Lee and focus on listening to his friend. “Th-they were holding my arms behind my back. I couldn’t move.  _ Mon dieu _ , I really thought they would kill me.”

 

“Laf look at me.”

 

“No.” He whispered, voice breaking.

 

“Lafayette-”

 

Laf turned to face him, eyes filled with unshed tears, and Alex took both of his hands in his own.

 

“Stop it. Stop hiding from me. You can hide from the world but not from me.” Lafayette nodded and blinked, allowing his tears to slip down his cheeks. 

 

“I was so afraid Alex. I close my eyes at night and I am so  _ afraid _ . They are gone from campus, they probably do not even care about me. Yet I  _ have _ to make sure the door is locked. I am so afraid they will come back to….to finish the job.” Alex felt crushed at his words, felt like  _ he _ was the one collapsing. He had suspected for a while that Laf was not okay, but he had never thought it was this bad.  _ You were so caught up with yourself…. _

 

“And then the board meeting was a joke.” Laf continued, hiccuping and squeezing Alex’s hands. “They made me feel like a criminal, they allowed  _ Lee’s father _ to be present, to interview me. He tried to blame me. He actually tried to blame me.”

 

“That son of a bitch.” Alex whispered and Laf let out a strangled chuckle.

 

“Oh but that's not all.” He looked down at Alex’s hands. “You were right Alex. I do love George. I love a man twice my age.” He laughed hoarsely, humorlessly. “The idiotic part….is that I actually convinced myself he loved me as well.” 

 

“Oh Laf.” Alex breathed, and pulled his friend into a hug, rubbing his back as his friend cried into his shoulder, gripping him tightly. “It's gonna be alright.”

 

“ _ How _ ?” He breathed and Alex pulled back to look at him.

 

“You have us. You have  _ me _ . You aren't alone. You don't have to bottle all this in.”

 

“I feel ashamed Alexander.” He mumbled. “Ashamed that I have gone so long without ever catching feelings and now I have, and it's for someone I cannot be with.”

 

“I understand.” Alex said hoarsely. “Believe me I do.” Lafayette wiped his tears away and looked at Alex.

 

“You do, don’t you?” He laughed humorlessly. “God, we’ve always been the same haven't we?”

 

“Yes.” Alex smiled, rubbing Laf’s shoulders affectionately. “So you can't hide from me. I always know.”

 

“I know you do Alex.” He let out as small sob and hugged Alex again, this time buried in his neck. “ _ Mon petite lion _ , what do I do?” Alex’s stomach clenched at the question.

 

“All you can do is breathe.” Alex said, thinking of Washington. Thinking of John. “I’m here, I’ll always be here. Just breathe.”

 

* * *

 

 

john tortoise: can we talk?

slice of ham: are you okay?

 

John took a deep breath because  _ of course _ that was what Alex was worried about.  _ Now who's the selfish one? _

 

john tortoise: yeah I just need to talk to you

slice of ham: I can be at madison’s in twenty

john tortoise: perfect

 

John felt like an executioner, waiting for his next victim to arrive so he could end his unsuspecting, trusting life.

 

When Nathanael had asked him to not be friends with Alex, to not even  _ speak _ to him, he hadn't been able to respond. He hadn't trusted his mouth to form words. 

 

He wanted to argue, but what argument was there?  _ He's my best friend _ . And Lee was Nathan’s.  _ I need him.  _ Why? Because you love him.  _ I've never been as close to anybody as I am to him.  _ Then what are you doing here?  _ I love him.  _ Then why even date Nathan?

 

“Can I….Can I think about it?” He had whispered and Nathan had nodded, a courtesy. They both knew there was nothing to think about. This was it, the ultimatum. 

 

He wanted Nathan. Nathan was like a fucking prince charming, and he made John happy. John didn't love him, but he could. He knew he could, and he didn't want to smoulder the spark between them before it even had the chance to grow into a fire. 

 

_ Besides _ , he had told himself.  _ This gives you the chance to get over Alex. The chance to really be with someone else, without your lingering love getting in the way. _

 

He hated the small apartment when James wasn't home. It was dark with concrete walls that emulated loneliness, practically  _ bleeding  _ with pity.  _ No wonder he stays at Jefferson’s so often. I can't wait for this week to be over. _

 

He wondered if they would move him into another dorm room. Samuel Seabury was terrified of him now, so they couldn't live together. Hopefully they would move Samuel instead of him. Or maybe he could live off campus, like Jefferson.  _ Fuck, but the only person I could tolerate as a roommate would be Alexander. _

 

As if thinking his name had drawn him closer, there was a knock at the door.

 

_ Time for the execution _ .

 

He opened the door and, grinning and half buried alive under a winter coat, was Alex.  _ His  _ Alex.

 

The first day he had ever formally met the boy was in the library. He'd been minding his own business, doing homework, when this storm of a human being had come into his life and sent it into a tumultuous and exhilarating current with just a couple hours of conversation.

 

But that wasn't the first time he had noticed Alexander Hamilton.

 

John was a member of several campus clubs, and although he simply didn't have the time and means to attend every meeting, he came to as many as he could. He loved the Tuesdays of the Black Student’s Association, full of fire and voices of unison. He loved the Wednesdays of the Queers and Allies, the free coffee and the free flowing words. The Mondays of Latino Club, where he didn't have to mentally shift gears into English, and the Friday mornings of the Social Justice club, a budding and eager group. 

 

Most of all, he loved that he was not the only person involved in every single one.

 

He would’ve been hard pressed  _ not _ to notice Alexander Hamilton, who either had his hair up in a wild bun or hanging uncombed down to his shoulders. He was wild, speaking just as rapid fire in English as  _ en Español _ . John was a freshman, too scared to speak up and contribute his voice. Yet on day one, this short kid with the messy hair and blazing eyes had gone on and gone about 1) the black lives matter movement 2) why gay marriage being legalized would lead to even more homophobia 3) the way immigrants were treated, particularly the women 4) the importance of proper pronouns. He literally single handedly took over the little “introduce yourself” segment of every club. John was enthralled by him immediately.

 

“Hey,” Alex rocked on his heels back and forth, rubbing his gloved hands together. “You're okay?” John would've chuckled under normal circumstances, both at his persistence in making sure John was alright and his excessive layers.

 

“Yes, come in don't freeze out there.” He beckoned Alex inside towards the sofa. “Your immune system is weak enough as is.”  _ Don't joke with him, don't you dare _ .

 

He had heard how, right before death strikes, your life flashes past you like a movie. And his life with Alex was drifting lazily around his subconscious, shoving memories to the forefront, as if to taunt him.  _ Look, _ his mind was saying, playing him a scene of him and Alex drunk together in Times Square, buying hotdog after hotdog from different vendors to determine which was best.  _ This is what you're throwing away. _

 

He wasn't able to pinpoint the moment he had started crushing on Alex, he knew though that it was before they even spoke. But he was able to identify exactly when he fell in love with him, gradually and growing like a sunrise.

 

Or rather, he could identify the moment he realized it.

 

It was one in the morning and they were in some 24 hour grocery store. (“ _ Why do grocery stores need to be 24 hours? Who wakes up at fucking three am and thinks ‘goddammit I need some eggs and it just can't wait until morning’.” “Well Alex when and where else would serial killers buy their shovels?”)  _ Under the fluorescent lights and empty aisles, Alex was pushing John around in an otherwise empty shopping cart. John had his knees pulled up to his chest, giggling and pointing where he wanted to be lead, Alex maneuvering sharp turns and ridiculous spins to make him laugh.

 

They had known each other about three months at this point, but that was all it took. ( _ “Why should time be such a indicator for relationships? I knew Lafayette for like two weeks before we were finishing each other’s sentences. My abuelos met one day and got married the next, and they were together forty years.” “That's a sweet way of telling me I'm your best friend, Alex.” “Shut up.”)  _ They were a little buzzed but not drunk. John didn't like the sensation, hated disorientation. And besides, he liked being fully in control when around Alex. He needed all of his senses heightened around the human hurricane.

 

_ (“Hey John.” “What Alex?” “Do these wine coolers just give you like, a ridiculous craving for gummy worms?”) _

 

John had argued that they could easily get gummy worms from a gas station, but of course where was the fun in that? Alex had given the cart a push and released him, John squealing and laughing as he rolled away, hands gripping the sides of the cart as Alex ran after him halfheartedly, laughing much too hard to be of any use when John crashed into a DVD display.

 

John would never have done something like that before Alex. His  _ mama _ , his world, had died too soon and left him with a caring but cold father. The only way Henry Laurens knew to show love was through discipline. John learned to speak when spoken to, to keep his elbows off the table, that smiling for no reason was foolish, and that your salary determined your worth.

 

Alex made him unlearn all that. Alex worked so hard, harder than anyone he knew, and yet could be so untamable. He knew how to have fun, how to  _ live _ . And he made John actually want to stay alive. Being around his contagious electricity made John truly want to live, not just survive.

 

( _ “Oh my god. You fell in the DVD display. Your ass is crushing Saving Private Ryan.” “And who's fault is that? You were my trusted pilot.” “This is your captain speaking: my bad.” “Here idiot, help me up.”) _

 

He had pulled John to his feet and, tipsy and swaying slightly, they didn't release one another’s hand. Alex laughed and made some joke about being a shitty pilot before lifting up the fallen cart and climbing in himself. He attempted to stand,  _ dumbass _ , arms spread out comically wide. He almost immediately fell over and into the cart on his back, legs and arms skyward like a ridiculous caricature of an animal trapped on it’s back. 

 

_ I love you. _

 

He thought it. He knew it. He felt it.

 

They had found the gummy worms, the cashier glaring at them and rolling his eyes, and finished them all before getting even halfway through the walk back to Alex and Laf’s dorm.

 

_ I love him _ . John wasn't afraid of this realization, it had felt like sweet release. He was finally admitting it, he could finally allow himself to just absorb Alex in all his wonder, watching him with love.

 

His euphoria ended all too quickly when he remembered Alex didn't do relationships, didn't fall in love.

 

“I do get sick easily.” Alex conceded, patting the cushion next to him. “Come tell daddy Alex what troubles you my child.”

 

“Do not refer to yourself as daddy.” He shook his head and Alex snickered, unraveling his scarf and looking at him expectantly.

 

_ Your gun is loaded. Pull the trigger. _

 

The first time he ever saw Alexander cry had jarred him. 

 

Him and Lafayette had gone for ice cream to restock their mini fridge, a worthy investment considering Laf and Alex’s dorm room (affectionately nicknamed The Palace) was where they all hung out. 

 

But they had returned to something akin to a crash scene. Papers and books were scattered across the floor and the beds and Alex had his hands buried in his hair, breaths coming out in quick little bursts, and frail body trembling.

 

John had dropped the ice cream.

 

Lafayette immediately went to him, not displaying any signs of surprise, and murmured to him something in French in soothing tones. Alex’s response sounded agitated, also in French. They chittered back and forth repeatedly in this manner until Lafayette seemed to remember John standing there, gawking. ( _ “You can go. I've got this.” “No.” “What?” “No I...I want to stay.”) _

 

He had also approached Alex, Lafayette stepping back to allow John to touch his face. Fast paced french swapped to slow and steady tones in English. Tears were wiped away, whispers exchanged. John had set alarms in Alex’s phone after that, alarms reminding him to sleep or eat. He had started checking in regularly, staying up later than his body mandated to ensure his friend was behaving in a healthy manner. 

 

No matter what, they looked after each other. It was what they  _ did. _

 

“So,” John rubbed his palms against his thighs, biting his lip apprehensively. “Here's the thing. I found out Nathan is friend with Charles Lee.”

 

“Oh my god,” Alex looked at him with wide eyes. “How can someone like him be friends with someone like that?!” John was almost flattered, knowing that was as close to a compliment as Alex would probably ever give Nathanael.  _ And why do you think that is? _

 

_ (“Wanna know something funny?”) _

 

John had looked over at Alex lazily when he asked, caught somewhere between being half awake and half in an intoxicating dream.  _ (“What?”) _

 

The christmas lights that Lafayette had strung along the ridges of the walls cast primarily a red glow across their faces, everything slightly burred like city lights rushing past them.

 

They’d had sleepovers often, sometimes under the pretense of John getting Alex to sleep, sometimes under no pretense at all. They both craved nearness, both suffered from that same lonely pull. 

 

Lafayette wasn't there that night so John could’ve slept spaciously in his bed instead of pressed against the wall in Alex’s. But it didn't matter. 

 

_ (“Remember that day we met at the library?” “Yes Alex.”)  _ Grouchy. He had just wanted to sleep.  _ (“Its funny cause….I was actually trying to pick up on you, ya know? I was trying to take you home.”) _

 

Stillness. John hadn't turned around to face him, eyes now wide open but firmly glued to the wall. He hadn't known how to respond, with a joke or a confession? All he could remember thinking was  _ Alexander finds me attractive. He wanted to sleep with me. _ Alex wants to sleep with everyone, he had scolded himself. 

 

It was nothing, but it was everything. A tendril of hope rising in the dirt. _ (“John, you awake? John?”) _

 

“Yeah they apparently knew each other in high school.” John said, trying to hold right to the present, despite how bitter it was beginning to feel. “They were  _ best _ friends.”

 

“Well his best friend is an asshole.” Alex snorted and John smiled at him, just really looking at him. This boy who inherently knew what John was thinking, what he wanted, how to make him laugh.

 

“Yeah, I asked him not to be his friend anymore.” 

 

“Good.” Alex kicked his feet up on the table. “What'd he say?”  _ He still doesn't see the axe. Look up, look up! It's over your head. _

 

“Uh, he agreed.” John stopped fidgeting to stare down at his hands, picking at a loose piece of skin around his fingernail. “But he gave me an ultimatum. Well, not like he forced me to agree. Or anything. He just have me a compromise, since he would be having to give something up.”

 

Alex was smart, always so fucking smart, and John watched the understanding dawn in his eyes before he had even finished spluttering out the sentence.

 

“He wants you to stop talking to me, doesn't he?” Alex said softly, and when John met his eyes he just nodded to himself, turning away. “And you brought me here to tell me that. To tell me that we can't be friends.” It wasn't a question.

 

That time they had stayed up all night watching American Horror Story played before John’s eyes. How when the gang went anywhere, all crammed into Herc’s car, it was him and Alex in the back. Him and Alex texting in class, hiding their laughter. Him and Alex staying together for thanksgiving break, John giving him a tour of his shitty hometown, Alex rewriting his loathsome memories attached to the places. Him and Alex kissing for the first time.

 

_ (“You're right here? You're always right here, aren't you?”) _

 

_ Right here _ . That was what Alex had latched onto before kissing him at Laf’s party, his voice full of something like awe. 

 

If John didn't know better, he might have believed from that kiss alone that Alexander loved him.

 

“I'm sorry.” John whispered to Alex, forcing himself to look at him. “I...I don't know what to do. Nathan makes me happy but you…”  _ You are my person _ .

 

“You don't have to choose anything.” Alex put his hand on John’s sleeve. “It's okay John. I'll be fine.”  _ What? _ John blinked. He had expected Alex to put up a fight, to yell and tell him how selfish he was being. 

 

“You're okay with this?” John tried to hide the hurt in his voice, knowing it wasn't fair, and Alex’s grip tightened. 

 

“John,” He looked away. “Of  _ course _ I'm not okay with this. I miss you after like, three hours of no contact. But I just want you to be happy.” He smiled at him sheepishly, standing up and beginning to slowly walk back and forth in a line. “You would do the same for me.”

 

“Quit pacing.” John stood up and touched his shoulders. “Alexander, you know you're my best friend in the world right?”

 

“I bet you say that to all the boys.” Alex joked, but John could see the misery in his eyes.

 

“I'm serious Alex. You know how much you mean to-”

 

“Stop.” His words were soft but the humor was gone. He blinked and took a deep breath. “Don't make this harder than it has to be. This breakup.” The humor was back, albeit weak.

 

“Eventually he’ll come around.” John offered. “Once he's….once he’s sure I'm over you, I'm sure he'll come around.”

 

“John, it's  _ okay _ .” Alex stood in front of him, forcing him to look into those eyes he had so long adored. “I understand. And it's okay.”

 

“It's not.” John whispered, pulling him into a fierce hug, closing his eyes shut tight. “I don't know what I'll do without talking to you everyday.” 

 

“Don't worry, just text Laf when you want to see him and I'll leave.” And  _ God,  _ John almost choked on the implications of that. He hadn't even thought about losing Alex in the context of the little group, their little family.  _ Am I breaking us up? _

 

“I wish you wouldn't be so considerate.” John said with a little laugh, sniffling loudly, and Alex chuckled.

 

“Would you feel better if I stormed out?”

 

“No.” He said softly, suddenly not in the mood for jokes. “Don't...don't go yet.”

 

“Okay.”

 

John had spent a very long time trying to pretend he wasn't in love with Alexander, and it had been suffocating. Right now, in the midst of having to let him go, he allowed that love wash over him. He had always loved Alex, from the moment he had first heard the boy speak to now, buried in that boy’s hair. John loved him. And that was okay. But now he had to move on. He had to pull his arms away, smile at his best friend, and watch him walk through the door and out of his life.

 

_ A couple more minutes. _

 

* * *

 

 

  
Alex thought of the parallel to this moment, just a few days back, when they had been in this exact same position. Holding each other in Madison’s apartment, emotions bubbling over, but that had been John’s forgiveness. That had been John inviting him back into his life, choosing to look past Alex’s selfishness, as he always did.  _ How did I get you back to lose you so soon? _

 

Alex felt as though he were having an out of body experience, watching himself and John exchange words from the eyes of an omniscient third party, behind a television screen or thick window glass. It was surreal, knowing that he was losing John.  _ John. _

 

_ Offer him an alternative, that's how you can keep him. Tell him you love him. Tell him you want to be with him. You would never make him compromise his friendships, you would love him forever. _

 

_ No Alex.  _ He closed his eyes, John’s face buried deep in his hair.  _ You don't know that. You're selfish. You're cruel. What if you got bored of him? What if he started to resent you for stealing him? What if he laughed in your face, already over you, and all your friends lose respect for you? You'll have nothing. _

 

But, although strong and deeply etched into his psyche, it wasn't the second voice that stopped him. It was the last one.

 

_ Love is selfless. He would do it for you. He'd do it for you.  _

 

_ I am not a selfless person. But I can go against my nature for John. _

 

And so Alexander was the first to break the hug, pulling away from John. He thought he could probably get away with kissing him right now, if it was chaste and quick. John would just take it as a goodbye. 

 

But he didn't. He just smiled at John, what else was there to say? Then he left, refusing to let the moment sink in. Trying not to dwell on the weight of it.

 

If he let himself think about it, he would want to talk about it. And the only person he wanted to talk to about it was John.

 

slice of ham: in the mood to get drunk and hide from our feelings some more?

french toast: I knew you were my best friend for a reason  
  


 

* * *

 

 

“Thomas has proposed to me that we practice for actual competition.” Friedrich looked uncomfortable at the notion, glancing behind him at Thomas, standing dark and tall and confident, and the man coughed. “And since evidently so many of you  _ agree _ , today we decided you all should...eh-”

 

“Break into groups of two.” Thomas stepped forward, voice resonating throughout the classroom, awakening the consciousness of those used to the slow trudge of Fred. “We’ll practice debating both sides of an argument in a limited amount of time, each person getting sixty seconds.”

 

Alex glanced beside him, hoping to catch Angelica’s eye, but to his relief she was already scooting her desk over to him. The other students followed suit, mild chatter springing up as they found a partner. Alex felt a twinge of satisfaction when Aaron Burr was left alone, last to be picked. 

 

“Eliza told me that you guys broke up.” Angie rested her chin on her palm, tapping manicured fingers against her skin. “But she wouldn't tell me why. Isn't that funny?” He gulped.

 

“Now,” Thomas’ voice made him jump, causing Angie to snort. “Let's pick a simple topic, one that doesn't really require prior knowledge. Anybody?” A girl in the back raised her hand. “Yes? Kitty?”

 

“Whether or not prisoners should vote?” She sounded squeaky, nervous, but Thomas nodded. 

 

“Perfect. Friedrich will time and I'll team up with..” He looked over at Angelica, saw her desk pressed against Alex’s, and frowned. “Burr.”

 

“Why are you avoiding your boyfriend?” Alex asked, smirking, and she rolled her eyes.

 

“He's not my boyfriend. If I was his debate partner he’d end up crying.” Alex laughed openly and she smiled slightly before it quickly evaporated. “Look, I want to respect Eliza’s choice not to tell me,” Her words were laced with sadness. “But if you hurt her in any way-”

 

“I did.” Alex interrupted her, and she blinked, looking taken aback by his honesty. “If she doesn't want people to know, I won't tell. But god knows why she's protecting me, it was my fault.” Why  _ was _ Eliza protecting him? Didn't he deserve Angelica’s wrath? Didn't he deserve the whole school thinking he's an ass?  _ I want to talk to her.  _

 

“Huh.” Angelica's eyes flickered over him, ignoring Fred announcing the start of the time. “I'm not surprised, you don't really date much do you?”

 

“Do you?” He retorted, glancing at Thomas who was watching them intently. “Or are you just fucking with his head?”

 

“I'm not like you.” She replied coolly. “Thomas knows what this is. I haven't lead him on, as I can only presume you did to my sister.”

 

“You don't know what happened.” He couldn't resist the slight taunting in his tone. “She doesn't want you to know. So you can't really attack me.”

 

“Oh please, it doesn't take a brain surgeon to guess you probably fucked someone else.” She snapped and he fell silent, unintentionally providing the answer she needed.

 

“Time!” Fred announced. “Switch who is speaking, then we switch sides.”

 

“I'm not really likeable, am I?” He said softly and her eyebrows pressed together.

 

“No, you aren't. But then again, neither am I.”

 

“We are pretty similar, aren't we?” He asked seriously and she frowned, as though his observation were insulting.

 

“I guess we are. Except you use people. I'm not selfish.” Alex glanced up at Thomas again, expecting to meet a glare, but his eyes were on Angelica. Mesmerized.

 

“Aren't you?”

 

* * *

 

 

The month and a half leading up to winter break felt like meaningless time to Alexander. It was the section of his life that, if made into a movie, would just be a montage of scenes. Him working at his desk until the sun came up, buried in projects and schoolwork and infinite writing. Him drinking with Lafayette, pretending not to notice when he saw him texting John. Him not going to any club meetings besides debate anymore, not wanting to risk having to even see his favorite curly head. What would be the protocol, wave? Ignore him? He didn't think he could survive it if John just pretended not to see him.

 

The days all blended together, the sky as gray and dreary as his mangled concept of time was becoming. One late, late night his phone buzzed and he jumped out of his chair. A forgotten, random alarm. 

 

_ Don't forget to sleep! :) -Ur Fav Turtle Guy _

 

John hadn't told Alex when such alarms were set, wanting to ensure that his friend couldn't turn them off in advance.

 

Alex had turned off his phone and continued working, gripping the pencil so violently he had snapped it, only noticing when his hand dripped a small dot of blood onto the notebook.

 

He worked himself into such a frenzy, such a haze, that he forgot to account for winter break.

 

The same thing had happened to him freshman year.

 

Alexander was new to America, only able to attend college on a full scholarship, not having a penny to his name. His home had been destroyed by a hurricane, his only close family was dead or untraceable. His home was his dorm room, as far as he was concerned, and no one had explained to him that you had to go home during the winter.

 

“But, I have no home to go.” He had gasped when his RA had told him. The man had shrugged, clearly not taking him literally, and left Alex drowning.

 

How could he survive for almost two months? He couldn't afford to go back to the caribbean, even despite knowing several generous townsfolk who might let him stay with them. Yet he couldn't afford to stay in the city. He couldn't even afford his own meals, the school provided them.

 

“Come home with me.”

 

“What?!” Alex had balked in the face of John’s offer, unable to comprehend it.  _ He's only known me four months, what's in it for him? _ He hadn't yet learned about generosity that existed outside of the law of reciprocity. Everything he had, he had earned or bargained for.

 

“I was gonna just road trip home.” John had shrugged, looking bashful. This had been when he had still had a car, before he had sold it in a spiteful attempt to anger his father, which had worked. “You would save me from being alone the whole way, it takes like an entire day. And my parents wouldn't care, the house is huge. They'd love for me to have somebody to talk to, keep me out of their hair.” He was talking fast, words blurring together, and Alex just gaped at him in disbelief.

 

“John, I don't have any money.”

 

“That's why I'm offering.”  _ Duh _ , his tone said. As if he really had no idea the kind of sanctuary he was offering.

 

“I meant I couldn't help pay for gas or food or  _ anything _ . I would be just, dead weight.”

 

“Oh you'd pay in other ways.” Alex’s heart had sped up for a moment before he realized John was joking, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. Alex laughed nervously.

 

“Really? I can stay with you?”

 

“Of course Alex. You're my best friend.” 

 

That had been the first time John had referred to him as such, and it had proven true. They'd spent the entire two months staying up late and whispering, feeling like high schoolers doing something forbidden, when John’s parents didn't really care what they did. John had showed him the lake, the local food places, various childhood landmarks. And the next year, there had been no question as to where Alex spent his winter.

 

It was there, in that crummy little small town that became the standard for Alex’s views of America, that he realized how John felt about him.

 

Alexander couldn't get enough of the stars, smudged out by New York’s dizzying skyline. So almost every night they sat out on John’s stereotypically southern porch swing and gazed up at the velvet sky.

 

Back home in the caribbean, in his tiny town on his tiny island, Alex had experienced his fair share of both boys and girls crushing on him. He was charismatic, witty, and charming. He was also the only out kid at his high school, openly bi, despite never actually dating either sex. Boys used him to experiment, to let themselves feel what they couldn't feel out in the open. Girls thought he was tender and intuitive to their needs. As a result, half the study body was half in love with him.

 

So Alexander was not a stranger to somebody gazing at him like he held all their answers. He was not used to, however, the stars above and around him and John, this boy, giving him an  _ intoxicatingly  _ enamoured look. Alex was just ranting about schoolwork, about professor Washington going harder on him than the rest of the class to try and push him, when he noticed John just gazing at him. Alex was drunk off this look, an immediate high. He never wanted to be sober from it’s light again.

 

Back home, all it had taken was a look to let Alex know what someone wanted from him. But this look, this simple yet complex admiration in John’s eyes, held no answers. He had been looking at Alex the way that Alex looked at the stars. People in high school had wanted him, sure. But not like this. Not in the way Alex truly craved.  _ I hope he never stops looking at me like that. I need it. _

 

Alex missed that town.

 

_ I wonder if he'll try and walk on the frozen lake this year without me, if he would be reckless if I wasn't around. Will he drink hot chocolate? _

 

Alex didn't dare allow himself to dwell on his worst thought, the worst possibility.  _ What if he brings Nathan? _

 

“ _ Mon amie _ I have amazing news.” Lafayette unwrapped his long and elegant scarf with a flourish, as he did almost every action with. “I am on track to graduate this year, instead of in four.”

 

Alex could graduate this Spring as well, if he wanted. He had plenty of credits, he could easily leave early. He simply hadn't yet known if he wanted to or not. His friends were all here. And the game plan had always been to get an apartment with Laf in the city, he couldn't do that with his friend still a full time student.

 

“That is good news.” Alex said, attempting to smother his obvious anxieties about where he would be living come next week. “We can graduate together.”

 

With Laf leaving, what was holding him back? Herc would practically live at their place, and it wasn't like he had John here to keep him rooted.

 

“You haven't packed yet.” Laf observed with an arched eyebrow. “The semester ends in a week.”

 

“I'm just choosing not to dwell on that. I'd rather focus on finals.” Alex smiled weakly, trying to ignore the panic rising in his chest. He had no solution to his impending homelessness. His worst fear was having to stay with Thomas (he had before, one miserable summer), but it would be better than living in a subway station.

 

Lafayette sighed and turned his back to Alex, fidgeting with the clothes in their closet.

 

“Well be packed before Friday little lion. Our flight leaves Saturday night.” The bashfulness in his tone should have clued Alex in from his first words. Alex’s head snapped up at he stared at Lafayette, who turned to face him with a sigh. “What, did you really think I would leave you here alone Alexander?”

 

“Laf,” Alex just stared at him numbly. “I...I can't go to France with you. I can't ask you to do that for me.”

 

“ _ Pour l'amour de dieu _ , the weekly allowance my parents send me could cover the ticket cost three times over Alex.” Lafayette shrugged shyly. “Don't act so grateful and weird. It is for my own selfishness. I couldn’t last this winter without you.” Alex blinked.

 

“Laf I….” He could tell Lafayette was embarrassed, he didn't enjoy flaunting his wealth, but Alex was even more so. He hadn't even asked Lafayette, hadn't even told him the truth about his fears, and Laf had still just known. “I don't know what to say.”

 

“Say you won’t make me pack for you like I always do.” Laf threw a shirt at him, smirking slightly, then groaning in exasperation at Alex’s continuously blank expression. “Don't leave me alone out there with Adrienne. Just say you'll come Alex, you're doing me the favor.”

 

Alex wanted to say something sappy, wanted to tell Lafayette that he didn't deserve to have the boy as his friend, never had. But he just smiled at him warmly, grabbing the shirt and making a show of folding it. 

 

“Okay okay I’ll pack. And Laf?” His favorite Frenchman looked at him. “Thank you.”  
  


* * *

 

“Are you gonna tell me what happened with Washington?” Hercules watched the way his words formed a cloud of frost in the air, dragon like, and disintegrated into the darkness. “Or am I just going to have to figure it out second-hand like I do everything these days?” Lafayette flinched, shrinking into the thin jacket pulled taunt over his shoulders.

 

The university was huge and desolate at night, and the library where Laf liked to study was on the opposite end of campus from their dorm building. Hercules had walked him home almost every night. It didn't matter where he was, what he was doing. When Laf texted him he walked to go get him and walked back beside him. Lafayette didn't have to say he was afraid of the dark now, he didn't have to. Herc knew.

 

“Did Alex tell you?” Laf asked softly, shivering. Hercules sighed, the snow crunching satisfactorily under his feet as they walked. 

 

“No Lafayette, he didn't. But I know you.” Hercules couldn't be frustrated at Lafayette, his own personal soft spot. But damn if he hadn't been feeling something very close to it lately. “Why haven't you been talking to me?”

 

“It's not just you.” Lafayette blinked at the light snowfall beginning to start, gathering in his lashes. “Alex said I’ve been shutting everyone out. Maybe I have.  _ Je ne sais pas _ .”

 

Hercules had always wondered why he did that, slipped into French mid sentence. It wasn't an accident, it was a conscious choice. And he knew who could and could not speak it.  _ Maybe he does it when he feels isolated. Speaks in the tongue that feels like home. _

 

“You feel alone.” Herc observed and Lafayette turned to look at him, stopping in his tracks and allowing the snow to dust his hair.

 

“Yes.” He shivered again and Hercules slipped off his own thick coat, wrapping it around Lafayette. The smaller boy knew better than to protest. 

 

“You caught feelings for the professor?” Herc offered Laf his arm and when he wrapped his icy hands around him they began walking again.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Did you and Alexander sleep together?” Lafayette’s sudden head turn was all the answer Herc needed.

 

It wasn't too far fetched a guess to begin with anyway. When he first met Lafayette and Alex, he immediately assumed they had slept together, given both their self assured sexuality. Laf had since confirmed this, never keeping secrets from Herc, and Hercules had long since suspected that they didn't just sleep together when they were sexually frustrated. No, they could find anybody for that. It was when one or both of them was going through some kind of crisis, as miniscule as Alex getting and A- to as large as Lafayette learning his childhood best friend in France had passed away. 

 

“How did you know?” Lafayette narrowed his eyes. “Don't tell me you guessed, Alex  _ must _ have talked to you.” Herc shook his head, suppressing a shiver to keep Laf from thinking he was cold.

 

“I know your coping mechanisms Laf.” Lafayette sighed and rested his head on Herc’s shoulder, the snowfall growing heavier and thicker. 

 

“You know me too well. Why can you not just be gay?” Herc chuckled.

 

“Oh please. If we were dating I wouldn't be able to keep up with you.”  _ I don't have to date you to protect you. I'll always protect you. _ He wiped the snow from his face and looked at Laf. “Tell me about Washington.”

 

And so, with a sigh, Lafayette told him everything. Of secret little meetings that Laf hadn't told anyone about, of how Washington had held him when he nearly fainted after the attack, visited him in the hospital. Of visiting the professor in his own home, thinking something could ever truly happen. Of Washington coldly dismissing him, as if it all were nothing. 

 

“It is not fair.” Laf sniffed and Herc shook his head to clear the snow as they stepped inside the dorm building, heading to Herc’s room without needing to clarify. 

 

Herc could afford to live without a roommate, thanks to his tailoring scholarship, and he knew Lafayette could as well. Hell, Laf could afford an off campus house like Jefferson. But he loved living with Alex.

 

“It isn't fair that he should view me as some child, fresh out of high school. I started college at 20. I just turned 23 at the start of this year, and I graduate in May. It's not a stupid crush.  _ Je l’adore. _ I adore him.”

 

“Maybe,” Herc opened up the cabinet in his room as Laf closed the door behind them, holding up a bottle of cheap wine which Lafayette nodded vigorously at. “He doesn't see you as a child. Maybe he just doesn't feel the same.” Laf laughed hoarsely, pouring a huge serving of the red liquid into a white styrofoam cup. 

 

“Only you would say something like that to me.” He took a long drink. “I am not insecure. I know I am irresistible to anyone interested in men. And Washington likes men.” Laf sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why should the one man I want more than sex from not feel for me what I feel for him?

 

“I could make him love me.” Laf continued. Herc sipped as his own cup, sitting across from his friend and just watching him run his hands through his hair as he spoke, continuously refilling his glass. The nervous tics that made Lafayette Lafayette, made him so endearing. “I could make anybody love me. But he is fighting me. He won’t even allow me to visit his office anymore.” Laf scoffed. “As if I haven't been in his home. I was in his  _ home _ . That means something, non?”

 

“Maybe to you.” Herc said slowly. “But maybe not so much to him.” Lafayette never finished his cup completely before adding more.  _ Maybe he just doesn’t like to see it empty. _ Herc tried not to attach too much meaning to his eccentric friend’s habits, he already worried enough.

 

“What do I do?” Laf unwrapped his scarf and tossed it carelessly to the ground, giving up on his cup and raising the wine bottle to his lips. “I've never been in love before, it seems tragic to simply give up.”

 

“Maybe…” Herc rubbed the top of his head, thoughts swarming him that he didn't want to speak. 

 

“Maybe what?”

 

“Maybe that's why he's the first person you've ever really been in love with.” He said cautiously. “Maybe you don't like the idea of being tied down, so you chose someone who you know can't ever...reciprocate.”

 

Lafayette stared at him for a long moment, unblinking, before raising the bottle to his lips once more. Herc watched the swell of his throat as he gulped and gulped until Herc was certain the bottle was drained of every last drop. Laf wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, smacking his lips, and throw the bottle down beside his discarded scarf.

 

“You think I am a mess.” He tilted his head, looking at Herc like he was studying him, and Herc felt squeamish under such a gaze.

 

“No Laf, I don't.” He reached for the bottle.

 

“Stop that, see you’re always trying to pick up my messes.” Lafayette gestured with his hands in annoyance. “Metaphorically or otherwise.”

 

“I just don't want a messy room Laf.” Herc put the bottle in the trash and hesitated slightly before grabbing the scarf he had knitted his friend, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door. Lafayette huffed. 

 

“You do. You think I am a mess. A mess incapable of love. Why do you not take me seriously?”

 

“Stop it.” Herc tried and failed at sounding stern. “You know I don't think of you as some human disaster. Not everyone is meant for relationships, it doesn't mean they are a mess.” He regretted his words the instant he saw Laf’s eyes flash.

 

“Oh, so I'm not meant for relationships?” Lafayette crossed his arms and his legs, on maximum defense suddenly. “Alex sleeps around just as much as I do, yet you don't think so little of him.”

 

“I don't think little of you, I think of you very highly.” The annoyance was beginning to seep into Herc’s tone, frustrating him even more. He liked to keep a calm presence around Lafayette, his friend needed that balance to even him out. “Laf you’re taking everything I'm saying the wrong way. You're just hurt that I don't think Washington wants you.”

 

“Why shouldn't he?” Laf snapped but his voice wavered. “Don't I deserve love?” 

 

“Lafayette-” He crossed the room and tried to put an arm around him but Laf stood up, jerking away.

 

“Don’t. I'm not done arguing yet.” Herc rolled his eyes.

 

“You're arguing with yourself here. I'm not fighting you.”

 

“You just think you're so superior, pointing out my flaws.” Lafayette’s voice adopted a mean tone, one typical to his bouts of fury. One that made Herc’s teeth clench. “I'm older than you.  _ Tu pensez que vous êtes tellement sage. _ Well, you aren't wise.”

 

“If attacking me,” Herc breathed. “makes you feel better then go ahead.”  _ Don't be mean. Don't be mean.  _ “But it won't make the professor love you.”  _ Fuck. _ Herc never got angry, not with Laf. But when he was truly pushed, he knew exactly the right button to press. And he hated himself for it.

 

“Oh?” Laf went rigid, starting to slightly sway, and Herc knew he would be spending the rest of the evening taking care of his drunk friend. “And you think telling me that will make me love you?” 

 

“Laf.” Hercules took a breath, calming himself. “I'm not in love with you. Why can't you accept that somebody just genuinely loves you and doesn't want anything from you? Why are you so defensive?” Maybe it was the alcohol setting in, but Laf visibly deflated.

 

“ _ Mon dieu, _ I am sorry Hercules.” Laf let out a long sigh. “I am not angry with you. I am angry with myself. I try to keep this solid exterior up, and a man has broken through it without even trying.”

 

“I know.” Herc held out his arms, an olive branch, and Lafayette melted into him, cuddling up against him with a small, sad sigh.

 

“I love him, I do.” He sniffed. “And I didn't do it on purpose to punish myself or anything. I just….felt this connection when we would speak, one I have not felt. At least, not romantically.”

 

“I know.” Herc patted his head and Laf turned to look at him, hiccuping slightly, clearly incredibly intoxicated.

 

“Kiss me.”

 

“No.” Herc stood up and set his friend down easily. “Just go to sleep Laf, okay?” Lafayette obediently pressed his face into the pillows, sighing. 

 

“Nobody wants me.” He mumbled as Herc pulled a blanket over him, and his friend sighed. 

 

“Lots of people do Laf. But not  _ all _ of your friends want to sleep with you.”

 

“Don’ see why not.” His voice floated from under the blanket.

 

_ He's been fragile lately _ , Alex’s warning from earlier this week floated by him. His small friend had text him, full of concern about Lafayette.

 

Apparently Alex thought the solution was to sleep with him.

 

Hercules would never admit to having favorites amongst his friends, but he was sure they all suspected that he held Lafayette on a pedestal. And it was true. He loved John, and he loved Alex, but Lafayette held a tender spot in his heart. He couldn't help but resent Alex a little for taking advantage of Laf in such a destructive state.

 

_ He didn't take advantage of him, it was consensual. And knowing Laf, Alex probably didn't even make the first move. Go easy on him, the way you worry about Laf is probably how he worries about John. _

 

With that in mind, Hercules could almost forgive him.

 

“Maybe when you’re back home in France, you'll forget all about Washington.” Herc said, rubbing his friend’s back, but at the professor’s name he let out a little sob.

 

“ _ George, pourquoi tu m'aimes pas  _ ?” Laf mumbled, and the misery in his tone made Herc glad he couldn't understand French.

 

“It'll be alright.” He whispered soothingly, sitting and rubbing his friend’s back until he was sure he was asleep.

 

_ I wish I could protect you from everything. _

 

Hercules wished, somewhere inside of him not far from the surface, that John really had killed Charles Lee. His dad was a senator, he wouldn't have gone to jail. Rich boys didn't do prison, especially not with white, self important fathers. It was the only way Lee could truly suffer enough for the damage he caused Laf.

 

_ Maybe this wasn't Lee. Maybe he's always been like this, and you've all ignored it. Dismissed his self destruction as quirkiness.  _

 

Herc chose to believe it was Lee.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

Eliza loved the greenhouse in the winter, the contrast between the ice of the outside air and the warm, welcoming sanctuary of the little building. They had heating lamps strung around the greenhouse all year round but only used them November to early March, the rest of the muggy weather was endurable for the plants. She adored unwrapping her layer after layer, scarves and mittens and coats, and feeling the dirt between her fingers, imagining she was maybe in California. Somewhere warm where it didn't snow.

 

It was here, down on her knees with a budding sunflower plant in one hand and a trowel in the other, that she felt the breeze of the door opening and sighed. They took shifts in the gardening club, all based on volunteering and availability, and she wasn't going to be relieved for another hour or so. Somehow, she already knew who it was.

 

“Eliza.”

 

Alexander looked ridiculous, a beanie enveloping his head and half disappearing into a marshmallow like coat. The word  _ adorable  _ jumped into her head and she quickly dismissed it.

 

“Alex.” She pretended to sound surprised. “What are you doing here?”

 

“It is so hot in here.” He breathed without answering, rocking back and forth on his heels, and she gave him a little small and stood up, brushing the dirt off her hands.

 

“The plants couldn't survive the winter snow silly. You can leave your coat on the rack.” He quickly shed it, failing to remove the beanie, and turned to her shyly.

 

“Hello there.”

 

“Hey.” She felt self conscious, in her stained overalls and thick garden gloves, but he smiled at her with only admiration.

 

“You look um, pretty.” He cleared his throat quickly and continued talking before she could respond. “Listen I know you probably don't want to talk to me or see me but-”

 

“That's not true.” She said softly, and then witnessed a truly rare event.  Alexander Hamilton at a loss for words.

 

“Uh, well,” He scratched his head then turned around, reaching into the pocket of his coat, and held out a little box. “Uh, I know it's not for a while but considering I won't see you...Merry Christmas.” She blinked at him, staring at his outstretched hand and the box wrapped messily in soft green paper with incredulity. 

 

_ He made a mistake Eliza. Hasn't everyone? _

 

He gulped at her hesitation.

 

“I-I’m not trying to ask you back out or anything. I know I don't deserve that. I just thought maybe...we could be friends?” He smiled cheesily and she couldn't resist taking the box from him, warm hand grazing his ice cold one.

 

She peeled away the paper, which was her favorite color, slowly.  _ I wonder if that was an accident or if he remembered that I love this shade of green. He was very good at remembering things, I only had to tell him my coffee order once. And he clearly remembers what days you work the greenhouse. _

 

Inside the box was a necklace. A simple black chain with a tiny, pearl elephant charm on the end of it.

 

Once, while out looking through some old shops together, she had spotted this very necklace and gasped. She had wanted to purchase it immediately; elephants were good luck and her favorite animal, wise and silent and strong. But she had decided against such an unnecessary luxury. Had he bought it that same day? Or did he go all the way back uptown to get it for her? Whatever the case, it was touchingly thoughtful. She looked up at him with big eyes.

 

“Alexander, you remembered.” He shrugged shyly, clearly pleased with himself.

 

“Oh well I-” She hugged him tightly, cutting him off, and tried her very best not to sigh when his arms wrapped around her in return. 

 

“I feel bad that I didn't get you anything.” She whispered and he snorted. 

 

“You don't owe me anything ‘Liza.” He pulled back to look at her, beanie slipping down his forehead and over his eyebrows. “Friends?” He asked, smiling brightly.

 

“Friends.” She replied, already half in love with him again.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

elizabeth sky: you werent there maria, you don't get it

 

Maria locked her phone and shoved it into her purse, grabbing and lighting a cigarette and taking a drag in record time.

 

Her and Eliza had just had a huge argument, ending with her storming out on her naive, beautiful roommate.

 

“Maria, you don't understand.” Eliza had argued, wearing that stupid necklace. “He made a mistake. You were right, I was ridiculous to be miserable about it for so long. But that's because it wasn't a big deal. We weren't even dating yet, we weren't exclusive. This time I’ll be clear with what I want.”

 

“Do you even hear yourself?” She had growled in return. “You sound like an idiotic schoolgirl with a crush. Or someone denying abuse.”

 

“I don't know why I bother.” Eliza, the high and mighty, had rolled her eyes, only irking Maria further.

 

“What makes you think he even wants to get back together with you? Didn't he say  _ friends _ ?”

 

“He gave me the necklace.” She blinked innocently, frowning. “I just told you so you would be happy for me. I don't know why you're so mad.”

 

“You don't know why?” She had laughed bitterly. “Because he's just another stupid boy who would use you.”

 

“You don't get it.” Eliza had replied stubbornly, prompting Maria to storm off in frustration.  _ You’re the one who doesn’t get it. _

 

Maria finished her cigarette quickly, burning her fingers by smoking it all the way to the stub, heart still pounding from their fight.

 

It was a double frustration she felt, prompted by how deeply she cared for the girl, and how stupid she thought Eliza was acting.  _ That boy doesn't even want to date her. Everybody knows how Alexander Hamilton is. He's good for a fuck, not for feelings. This time it's not even him leading her on, it's her own stupid head. Why would she want to try and get him back? _

 

She pulled out her phone once more, stomping out her cigarette’s miniscule remains.

 

red lips: hey girl are you still having that little gay club party tonight?

angel of music: it's called queers and allies club. And yes. Why, you interested?

red lips: no I'm asking for shits and giggles

red lips: yeah I'm interested. Are people not in the club allowed to come?

angel of music: smartass. Yes, come by thomas’ Friday around 9.

red lips: thomas as in jefferson?

angel of music: yes. You don't have to bring booze there'll be plenty.

red lips: so that's true then?

red lips: you and doucheking are an item?

angel of music: hey how's my sister maria? Still straight?

 

Maria locked her phone, face burning, and tapped her nails against the screen rhythmically. Another text from Eliza buzzed and she ignored it, mulling over what to wear Friday.  _ Looks like I have a party to attend _ , she thought, mentally deciding on what dress she’d arrive in.

 

It would be red, of course.   
  


 

* * *

 

 

“You go ahead to the party,” Laf had told Alex, suspiciously refusing to meet his gaze. “I'd rather get a good night's sleep, I can’t relax on a plane.” 

 

Alex had chosen to let it go, not push, because he was not about to miss this party.

 

Not when John might show.

 

He had spent the entire day fantasizing about what he might say if he encountered the boy he hadn't seen in almost a month and a half. He would be polite, of course, but formal. Reserved. He would let John think he was better off without him, so the boy could sleep peacefully at night, not wondering if he had broken Alexander.

 

_ You idiot. One word and your heart will be hanging from your sleeve. _

 

It would be enough to see him then, if he couldn't talk. He wouldn't be cruel, he would smile at John from across the room. But he’d keep his distance, respect what his dearest friend wanted. All the while gazing at the back of his head, maybe finding that his feelings had faded, not grown, with time.

 

There was a third option.

 

_ I love you. Be with me. Leave him. Choose me. _

 

The words were at his fingertips and on his tongue every second of every day. All it would take was a single text, a single phone call. He knew John’s schedule, he could find him easily. In fact, avoiding him took effort, so intertwined were their schedules. Alex knew that John could be his. He was known for his persistence, it was why he got so little sleep. Anything he put his mind to was his, why shouldn't that apply to people?

 

_ You have to let him be happy.  _ A voice inside him, eerily similar to Lafayette’s, scolded him.  _ People aren't things. You can't steal him. _

 

In the end, it didn't matter. John didn't show up.

 

“Hamilton stop gazing at the door.” Thomas replaced the empty cup in his hand with what Alex knew had to be whiskey. He hated the stuff but Thomas loved it.  _ Asshole probably gave me shitty liquor on purpose.  _ “Laurens isn't showing.”

 

“Who says that's what I was waiting for?” Alex grumbled, looking at Thomas as he defiantly gulped down the whiskey, face feeling numb almost immediately. Thomas rolled his eyes.

 

“No need to be so defensive. Ah,  _ amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus _ .”

 

“What the fuck is that?” Alex glared up at him and Thomas scoffed.

 

“It's a Latin phrase.” He said, tone implying that this was general knowledge. “It means ‘love is rich with both honey and venom’.”

 

“Since when do you know Latin?”

 

“I'm studying it.” He puffed out his chest, inspiring Alex to take another gulp of the drink he hated. “I know another phrase you’d like.  _ Littera scripta manet _ .” Alex didn't want to ask for a translation, further feeding his ego, but he couldn't stand to refuse any knowledge present to him.

 

“What does it mean?” He asked casually but Thomas wasn't fooled, eyes flashing.

 

“It means ‘the written word remains’.”  _ Huh _ . Alex did like it. He wanted to repeated the phrase to himself, test out how it tasted on his lips.  _ Littera scripta manet. _

 

“It’s nice.” He admitted and Thomas gave him a small, sly small.

 

“Did you find somewhere to stay for the winter?” Thomas looked down at his own cup as he spoke, trying to hide something like concern in his tone. Alex smirked.

 

“Don't worry. I won’t have to live on your couch again. Even though I think you liked it.” Thomas snorted loudly but didn't deny it, taking a drink from his cup.

 

“Alex! Thomas!” Angelica, looking radiant in a tight pink skirt and white top, approached them and grabbed an arm of each. “Stop being pretentious by the door and come join the party. We’re playing never have I ever.”

 

Alex had never particularly liked Thomas, but he still found it strangely adorable how quickly he straightened up and nodded in her presence. It reminded him of how John used to act around him, something that felt like an icicle in his heart.

 

The little group, all at varying stages of drunkenness, sat cross legged in the living room floor. Alex plopped down on the carpet, the whiskey making his limbs feel heavy, and watched the people around him swirl and distort.

 

“Can I sit here?”

 

With his vision so blurred- _ this is why i hate whiskey _ -it took him a long moment of staring at this tall stranger for her to come into focus. But when she did- _ oh god. _

 

It was a beautiful girl,  _ tan arms longs legs dark hair _ , in a strappy red dress. Long eyelashes blinked at him, and soft, slightly parted red lips held his attention torturously.

 

“Of course.” He said and she smiled at him as if he were in on some clever little secret. He gulped as she leaned against him, perfume sweet and sultry at the same time.

 

“Never have I ever,” drawled Thomas loudly. “dated a boy.”

 

“Me either.” Angelica shrugged and Alex noticed him flinch, almost imperceptibly. _Huh, guess I haven't either._ The girl next to him didn't take a shot. _Hasn't dated a boy._ _So, either gay or like me._ He hoped it was the latter.

 

“Never have I ever been to France.” Angelica smirked and Alex took a larger drink than necessary, emptying his cup.

 

“Aw,” He mumbled and the girl beside him poured some of her drink into it.

 

“Here.” She said, and he gazed at her.

 

“Trying to get me drunk?” He heard Thomas mumble and Angelica, seated between him and Alex, whispered something in his ear that made Alex burn with curiosity, Thomas immediately flushing. 

 

They continued around the circle, Alex drinking heavily, matched only by Thomas and Angelica.  _ Thomgelica. Angomas Schuyson. _ Alex giggled to himself. He didn't think he saw the girl beside him drink once. 

 

“I'm Alex by the way.” He said loudly as the others stood up, game having ended outside of Alex’s consciousness. She only smiled at him in response.

 

“Hey,” She said suddenly, looking at him. “I need to step outside for a smoke. Want to come?” He nodded, holding out his hands as she stood up.

 

“Help me up?” She looked amused when she pulled him to his feet, and he stumbled after the beautiful mystery girl as she stepped out the back door.

 

_ Oh. _

 

He hadn't expected such a vivid connection to this place, but he couldn't help but remember the last time he had been outside here. The taste of John’s lips, the boy's skin under his fingertips. 

 

The way John had looked at him, like he was a monster.

 

The girl leaned against the wall, shadows covering her, and lit a cigarette but didn't raise it to her lips. Something about the sight made Alex uneasy, and even in his lack of sobriety he felt something deeply wrong. Like he had seen this somewhere before, somewhere unpleasant. His body screamed at him to run. 

 

She looked up at him, eyes flashing in the dark, and crooked her finger towards him.

 

“C’mere.”

 

Obediently, he walked over beside her, ignoring his vague paranoia for his attraction to this beautiful stranger. The porch swing was visible from where he stood. He imagined they outlines of John and himself there, only in his imagination John didn't pull away. 

 

He forced himself to turn back to the girl, slightly blurred around the edges. She was  _ much _ less painful to look at.

 

“Hey.” He said softly, feeling himself move closer almost instinctively. She set her cigarette down on a planter, turning to him.

 

“Hey.”

 

He kissed her. The whiskey made him bold and hurried, and he pressed close against her, pulling her close by her hips. She kissed him back but it seemed strange. Off. He ignored it and tilted his head, kissing her deeply, before she quickly pulled back and stepped away.

 

“Oh.” He panted, taken aback. “Sorry, was that too much?”

 

“Nope.” She picked up her cigarette and took only one drag before letting it fall to the floor, crushing it under her red heels. “That was just enough.”

 

“I um,” He leaned against the wall for balance. “I don't understand.”

 

“I just needed to prove something to someone.” She brushed past him but then paused mid step, turning to face him once more, something dangerous in her gaze.

 

Thinking she might kiss him again, he took a step towards her. She smiled at him, briefly, before reeling back and letting her fist connect with his mouth.

 

He was drunk enough that it caused him to lose balance completely, falling to the ground in a messy heap. She stood over him, staring down at him, and began to reapply her lipstick smoothly.

 

“That was for Eliza.” Her gaze was cool. No, it was cold. Like ice. “Hell, that was for John too. God knows nobody else is gonna hit you for him.”

 

He laid back and looked up at the swimming stars, listening to the sound of her heels disappear back into the house, screen door closing behind her.

 

He touched his swollen lips where she hit him and lifted his fingers up to his eyes.

 

Red.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

“You go ahead to the party. I'd rather get a good night's sleep, I can’t relax on a plane.” Alex had looked at Laf skeptically, and Laf knew that look in his eyes.  _ Please don't push it, mon amie.  _

 

“Alright.” Alex had shrugged, slipping on a thick black coat. The only one left that he hadn't packed yet. “I won't wake you up when I come home, promise.”

 

“Have fun!” Lafayette had called after him, and waited a solid twenty minutes to be certain Alex was gone before leaving himself, checking himself in the mirror a thousand times over.

 

And now here he was, standing at the door of the rickety elevator that lead to the professor offices. Pacing actually, as if he were as anxiety ridden as Alexander.

 

He shook himself off, clutching the straps of the bag over his shoulders, and stepped inside, pressing the button with firm determination. 

 

His anxiousness was twofold. On one hand, he was obviously nervous about his attempt to talk to the professor. But he had to try before Christmas break. If anything, it would help him to put his ridiculous crush to rest.

 

But on the other hand, he could no longer pretend he didn't have some mild form of PTSD from that night. Alex refused to let him hide anymore, and his roommate was right. Laf couldn't smother these fears, or they would forever haunt him. Instead, he closed his eyes and let the voices wash over him, so that he might face them head on.

 

_ This was for that cunt Washington but I'll warm up on you. _

 

The ding of the elevator made him jump, and suddenly the ghosts dissolved in light of a new worry eating at his stomach.  _ George.  _

 

He walked lightly down the hallway, a yellow glow emanating from the door at the near end. He knew George would still be here, the man was always working late. Even before Christmas. 

 

He took a breath and knocked softly upon the wood, feeling like a child. Feeling like an idiot.

 

“Come in.” A gruff and familiar voice called out, tightening Laf’s heart in his chest. He adopted his most charming smile and pushed the door open.

 

“ _Bonjour mon amie._ ” He said cheekily, and the professor’s hands stilled when he looked up at him.

 

“La-Gilbert.” He said in surprise, his self correction almost causing Laf’s smile to falter. 

 

“I'm sorry to bother you, I know you are a busy man.” He spoke fast, not daring to stop for breath and give the professor time to send him away. To reject him twice. “It's just that it is winter break and I'm not taking any of your classes next semester and I'll be graduating this spring instead of next year so-” He pulled out a neatly wrapped rectangle from his bag, adorned with a little red bow. “Here.  _ Joyeux Noël _ .” 

 

George stared at his outstretched hand for what felt like an eternity, despite only being a couple seconds, before gently taking the present from him.

 

“Thank you Lafayette.” Laf’s heart swelled at the sound of his own name on the man’s lips and he stepped closer, sitting in the chair in front of the desk.

 

“Open it.”

 

Georg slowly tore away the paper and smiled, a genuine, tender smile, and looked up at Lafayette.

 

It was the book that had been popular however long ago, the cover an oil painting of a war general standing mighty and tall, his troops gazing at him admiringly.  _ The General,  _ how George had earned his nickname.

 

“And here I thought this book was done haunting me.” He joked, looking at Lafayette softly. “Thank you.” Lafayette couldn't stop fidgeting with his hands, trying to force his heart to return to his chest instead of where it was pounding in this throat. He opened his mouth to respond but George spoke again before he had the chance. “I confess, although I didn't know when I would see you again, I have a present for you as well.”

 

Lafayette struggled to form a coherent thought, his mind simply a series of question marks, as George opened a desk drawer and handed him a poorly wrapped box, the tape sticking to Laf’s fingers. 

 

“I will have to show you how to wrap sometime.” He said quietly, facade of charm all but having evaporated.  _ What does this mean? _

 

He pulled back the sticky paper and opened the box, a textbook-looking sleek book staring back at him.

 

“Its um,” George scrambled to lift up the book nervously, the front cover reading  _ Writing In A Second Language.  _ “It’s a very well renowned textbook, I know it's very big in LA right now. Uh, it’s for if you have trouble coming back to English. Ever again.” Lafayette looked up at this man and felt like he was drowning.  _ I will not be getting over this any time soon. _

 

“That's very thoughtful.” He said, standing up to take the book, and the box rattled. He looked down and saw a little black cylinder. “Whats this?”

 

“Pepperspray.” All traces of nervousness in George were replaced by stern and quiet anger. “Nobody will hurt you again.” 

 

“George,” He said softly, feeling nearly faint. “I…..thank you. I did not...expect this today. At all.”

 

They stared at each other a long moment, exchanging nothing but blinks, before Laf finally cleared his throat. 

 

“So what are your plans for the break  _ monsieur _ ?” He asked, reluctant to leave and end their reunion. George gave a slight shrug.

 

“I’ll stay in the city, as I always do. Maybe do extra work to seduce the board a little. They still seem anxious around me.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Laf frowned but George shook his head, shaking a finger at him.

 

“I thought we agreed no more apologies? How will you spend your break Gilbert?”

 

“Ah. I shall be returning to France, as  _ I  _ always do. Alexander will join me. He will help me to fend off Adrienne.” He absently reached for a piece of wrapping paper just as George did, hands brushing. His instinct was to jerk away, apologize. But he did neither, and neither did George. Laf felt frozen in time, hands gently pressed together for merely a second, before George pulled away and he could breath once more, spell broken.

 

“So you...you graduate this spring instead of next?” George asked with averted eyes and Laf nodded, smiling at the man shyly.

 

“ _ Oui,  _ I have done well enough in school that I can get out of here. It's embarrassing to be nearly twenty three and barely a junior.”

 

“Age doesn't matter. At least, not for college.” George added quickly, his words hanging in the air over their heads. 

 

“I suppose not.” Lafayette smiled to himself, as if something had just occurred to him. And stood up, extending his hand towards George. “Well professor, I wish you a wonderful break.” George stood up and shook his hand, looking mildly confused.

 

“Oh um. Same to you Gilbert. Thank you for my book.”

 

“And thank you for mine.” Laf smiled, memorizing the feel of his hand in George’s before pulling away. “I will see you at the graduation?”

 

“Perhaps.” George was staring at him like Laf was a puzzle that he couldn't quite figure out.  _ Just how I like it.  _

 

“Wait, Gilbert.” Lafayette froze in the doorway and turned around, half expected that George would cross the room to him and hold him in his arms. He wanted nothing more in the world. “You uh, you never told me who Adrienne is.” The professor said lamely, as if he had changed his mind at the last second. 

 

“Adrienne?” Lafayette smirked, one foot already out the door. “She is my ex wife.” George stared at him blankly and he laughed. “Merry Christmas George.” He said, allowing his eyes to convey all that he could not say.

 

“Merry Christmas Lafayette.” George replied, and Laf tried to convince himself as he walked away that he hadn’t seen the same look reflected back at him.  
  
  


* * *

 

 

“South Carolina?” Nathanael helped John pull on his coat, smoothing it over his shoulders, and surprised the boy by pulling him close, eliciting a giggle. “I might just drive the twelve hours to see you.”

 

“Don't be an idiot.” John laughed, kissing his cheek, face flushed. “I can fly out for a couple of weekends maybe….stay with you?” He felt shy asking, like his request was too much, but Nathan’s immediate grin set him at ease.

 

“My dear you can visit me whenever you want.” Nathan grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, John smiling even as he responded.

 

“People are looking.”

 

“Let them.” Nathan joked, eyes flickering to the screen above them. “Oh god, it's time for you to board.”

 

“I'll call you the second I land.” John promised, giving his arms a squeeze. He didn't want a long sappy goodbye, he didn't feel they had been together long enough to earn it. But Nathan surprised him by grabbing his arm.

 

“Wait John.” He chewed on his lip nervously and John wanted to wipe away the worry lines on his face. “Are you...are you happy?” John knew what the boy was really asking.  _ Are you happy without Alex? Am I enough for you?  _

 

“Nathan you know me,” He scolded gently, kissing his boyfriend once more. “You make me very happy.”  _ That isn't what he asked and you know it.  _ “I'm boarding now babe. I'll text you okay?”

 

“Okay.” Nathan nodded, kissing him one last time before handing him his bag.

 

John looked back and his heart clenched at the sight of the boy standing there, watching him board with nothing but adoration in his eyes. John would miss him, but he was happy to get away from New York for a while.

 

It had been a long month. Ironically, his suspension hadn't even been the hardest part.

 

_ Fuck. Of course dad didn't bother to book me a window seat.  _

 

He squeezed between two strangers into the middle, quickly making himself comfortable and shoving headphones into his ears.

 

John was certain that Nathan loved him. He saw it in his eyes, felt it in his touch. The thought warmed his heart, as he cared for his boyfriend deeply.  _ But you still don't love him. _

 

_ I just need more time. _ John knew himself. He knew he took a long time to let people in, to fully adjust to them. Logically, he knew he just needed more time. But he harboured the secret fear that something was wrong with him. That maybe Alex had broken him.

 

_ Alex. _

 

Even thinking his name hurt. He pulled out his phone, the stewardess beginning to go over the safety instructions.

 

john tortoise: hes staying with you, right?

french toast: yes, same as he was when you checked yesterday

french toast: if you are worried about him just text him mon amie

john tortoise: you know I cant

john tortoise: just please take care of him for me

french toast: your concern is touching. I would take care of him regardless of you john

john tortoise: you know what I meant. Make sure he sleeps

french toast: he needs friendship not a babysitter 

french toast: how is nathan

french toast: did you end up inviting him with you after all?

 

John felt a guilty pang at the question. His parents didn't mind when he brought home friends, in fact they encouraged it. But it would feel wrong to replace Alex so quickly, it would feel like a betrayal. He needed the time alone, away from everybody who thought they knew what was best for him. 

 

_ It's not like you'll escape thinking about him. He's everywhere back home. _

 

But that was the most painful part, he  _ had _ started thinking of Alex less and less. His love for Alex was as comfortable and as constant as a favorite coat. Only now he was alarmed to discover that it didn't fit anymore.  _ Am I falling out of love with Alexander? But I still don't love Nathan. _

 

He couldn't remember who he was when he wasn't in love with somebody. Alex had unintentionally come to define him, he built his existence around the compelling and beautiful boy.

 

And now he struggled to remember the sound of his voice. He would go days without thinking about him. At first, almost every night, he hadn't been able to sleep peacefully. He had been tormented with wanting to talk to Alex,  _ needing _ to talk to Alex.  _ Who am I without him?  _

 

john tortoise: did Alex ask you to ask me that?

french toast: not to hurt you, but he hasn't spoken of you at all

 

But it did hurt. Only, the pain wasn't a sharp blade going into his stomach. Like it used to be when Alex would sleep with other people, stay out all night. Now the pain was dull, like a rust coated stone sitting inside of him. Heavy but less prominent. Easy to ignore.

 

_ I'm losing him _ . Every hour that passed, he could only imagine that Alex was forgetting John faster than John was forgetting him, not bearing the burden of unrequited love.  _ But isn't that what you wanted? _

 

The plane started to lift off and John turned off his phone and closed his eyes, ears ringing with the change in altitude, holding his breath.

 

_ I have no idea what I want. _

 

The plane reached its required altitude, the turbulation ceasing, and John breathed again, level with the sky.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tu pensez que vous êtes tellement sage= you think you are so wise  
> George pourquoi ne pas tu m'aimez=why don't you love me
> 
> So this was supposed to be short and it's my longest chapter yet ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ my poor boys
> 
> I'm shit at replying to comments so please come talk to me on tumblr @ angstypanfeminist
> 
> Thank you all for reading, lots of love


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY YA'LL IM SORRY I TAKE SO LONG TO UPDATE  
> Once I start writing I cannot stop and in other words this chapter was getting really ridiculously long and not even close to being done so I split it in half George R R Martin style. So unfortunately there is not John sections in this chapter but never fear, he'll be here in part two.
> 
> also I should mention that when two characters are speaking in french for an extended amount of time I just put it in italics to save time
> 
> Thank you guys for being patient and leaving the WORLD'S NICEST FUCKING COMMENTS
> 
> One final thing:  
> A lot of people are super sad over how angsty this fic is (lol) so I feel that I should clarify that yes, lams is endgame. Theres just lots of angst in between

Alex had never flown first class on a plane in his life. He spent the first thirty minutes once in the air amusing both himself and Lafayette by testing out every button, every lever, in front of and around him. They even had ginger ale on the plane, served to him with a crisp cup of ice and a bar of chocolate.

 

“In France they wouldn't deny us alcohol.” Laf informed him bitterly, gazing longingly at the wine menu. He had left his ID card in his luggage, which Alex found terribly amusing, considering Laf always mocked him for being too young to drink.  _ Now who's paying the price?  _

 

“My poor little alcoholic.” Alex teased and Laf smacked him, pressing his forehead against the window in either silent contemplation or not so subtle pouting. 

 

“Hey Laf?” Alex said after a couple minutes, bored with the in-flight movie options. “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Anything.” Laf replied without hesitation, eyes glued on the sky stretched before them. It was a long flight to Versailles, especially when you couldn't relax on a plane. Alex hoped Laf would at least consider taking some of his sleeping pills.

 

“You keep saying that Washington is the first person you've ever loved.” Laf turned to him. “But what about-”

 

“Adrienne?” Alex nodded and Lafayette chuckled. “That was not love. It was foolishness. Oh do not get me wrong, I  _ thought _ it was love. But god Alex, we were so young. It's different, when you grow up in a private, rich little world where everything is cream colored and too precious to be touched.” Laf sighed, cracking open his own can of Dr. Pepper and drinking it sans ice. “Including us. We were raised to think beyond our years, always coddled, and were convinced we were far more mature than our seniors. Maybe all 17 year olds are. But it was never love. It was passionate,  _ oui.  _ But not in the good way. It would be like,” He gestured to Alex, smirking. “If you married yourself. You would burn yourself alive. And she did burn me. She was all consuming. So yes,” He set his cup down. “Washington is my first true love, even if I thought that's what I was marrying Adrienne for. Truly, I think she married me as an act of rebellion. Her parents never could stand having a black man neat their perfect porcelain princess.”

 

Alexander would never forget the first time Laf had told him about Adrienne de Lafayette.

 

“ _ You let me sleep with a married man? _ ” He had exclaimed, French sharpened by his anger. 

 

It had been Freshman year of college, Lafayette confessing one night over several shots of vodka and a sloppy game of strip poker that he was, in fact, married.

 

“English Alex.” Laf had scolded him, accent thick as his hair. “Do not act so alarmed. We are, ah, ‘ow you say,  _ divorcent _ .”

 

“Divorcing.” Alex had provided, standing up and pacing anxiously, clad only in underwear and a single sock. “I don't get how you can be married. We’re like, eighteen.”

 

“ _ Non _ ,” Laf had shrugged. “I am twenty one.” Alex had gaped at him, eliciting a smirk from the frenchman. “I took three years off to...travel. It's a rich kid thing.”

 

“Why are you divorcing?” Alex asked, ignoring the pretentious little jab about wealth. Lafayette had shrugged, holding out his shot glass for a refill.

 

“The question is not why, but when.” He hiccuped. “My dearest spouse refuses to sign  _ les  _ papers.”

 

“Remember when I told you I took three years off to travel?” Lafayette’s voice, clear and with perfect diction, snapped him back to the present. Alex grinned at Laf’s ability to read his mind. 

 

“I was just thinking of that.”

 

“I was really just avoiding her.” He shuddered dramatically. “It was to escape.  _ Excusez-moi? _ ” He caught the attention of a pretty stewardess and displayed a truly charming grin, batting his long lashes. “Ma'am,” The accent was thicker too. “ _ Perdon _ , but I left my ID card in my carry on bag, which is about five rows down in the little ceiling bin, and I am just  _ dying _ for a drink.” The lady blushed under his gaze, looking around slightly, before leaning in.

 

“What can I get for you sir?” He placed a hand over hers gently, Alex pressing against his seat, awkwardly between them.

 

“What ever wine you have, you sweet angel. Surprise me.”

 

“I hate you.” Alex said, laughing as she walked away, face red. 

 

“I have a way with women.” He replied distantly and Alex nudged him.

 

“Don't look so freaked out. I'll protect you against your big bad ex wife.”

 

“I am very glad you're here.” He sighed. “I am very emotionally fragile right now, and I fear she will smell that on me like a wolf. I cannot fall into that fire again Alex. But she compels me so.”

 

“It’s hard to imagine someone more compelling than you Laf.” He intended it as a joke but Laf’s expression grew sour. Fearful.

 

“Oh my dear boy, she is the one who made me.” The stewardess set down a miniature bottle in front of Laf, complete with a glass of ice, and he blew her a kiss. “I am in your debt,  _ madame _ .”

 

“My pleasure sir.” She replied, grinning shyly, and Laf returned his gaze to Alex.

 

“Think I could get one of those sleeping pills?”

 

“With alcohol?” Alex raised an eyebrow and Laf scoffed.

 

“I do not judge your habits. I am not the one who shows up at home drunk and with a fat lip.” Alex ran his tongue over his bottom lip at Laf’s words, the sting dull but still present. His memory of the girl in red, and why exactly she had punched him, were skewed. Whatever her reasons, he could recall feeling it was deserved.  _ Anyone who punches you had good reason too Alex. You don't exactly tiptoe around sensitivities. _

 

“What the fuck happened to you?” Laf had asked, for some reason still awake when Alex was at the door.

 

“You went out.” Alex observed, swaying, unaware of the dried blood down his chin. “You're wearing different clothes.”

 

“That's hardly the point.” Laf had stiffly replied, helping Alex into his pajamas and sighing. “Everyone in this group is either getting the shit kicked out of them or kicking the shit out of someone.”

 

“There is no group.” He had slurred. “John hates me. And Hercules hasn't hit anyone.”

 

“Neither of those are true.” Laf had tucked him into bed as though he were a frightened child, but it did help soothe him. Being shitfaced drunk and having recently gotten punched had made him feel slightly paranoid.

 

“Fine here, but that's you're only glass of wine.” Alex handed over a sleeping pill which Laf promptly swallowed dry.

 

“I need my energy up to see her.” Laf took a long drink of his wine and leaned back into his chair, pulling a pink sleeping mask over his eyes.  _ “Bon sang, elle va me faire la peau.” _

 

Alex tucked his legs under him in his chair and leaned his head against Laf’s shoulder, drowsiness coming quicker than he anticipated. 

 

He didn't realize he had fallen asleep until he woke up, a stiffness in his neck and Lafayette completely curled against him, head now in Alex’s lap. The plane shuddered as it touched the ground of the terminal, probably what had woken him to begin with, but Laf only snored on.

 

“Wake up druggie.” He shook his friend gently, who in response buried his face deeper into Alex’s leg with a groan. 

 

_ “Non, laisse-moi dormir, ducon.” _ Alex rolled his eyes and shook him more violently, causing Laf to spring up with a snort. “What, what is it?”

 

“We’re landing dumbass.”  

 

Lafayette sat up and yawned hugely, not bothering to cover his mouth, as the pilot announced their location in English and again in French. 

 

“I just remembered something.” Lafayette beamed at him, annoying perky considering he had just woken up. 

 

“What?” Alex hadn't quite yet shaken his exhaustion. He physically felt the lost hours of the flight taking a toll on him.  _ I need about seven cups of coffee. Or maybe one cup of very strong espresso. _

 

“You have never seen my summer house.” It was easy for Alex to forget how rich his friend was, when they shared a dorm room and ate ramen noodles together out of styrofoam cups. Easy for him to forget things like how his friend owned an entire house, all to himself, just for  _ vacationing.  _ He had other houses, Alex knew, a fact that left him reeling. “It is not that big, but you can have your own room if you like. Although I'm quite attached to having you in near proximity.”

 

“We can stay in the same room.” Alex acquiesced, reaching for their bags from the overhead compartments. He had never had a room to himself in his life, he suspected that he wouldn't enjoy it at all. Besides, it warmed him that Lafayette wanted him near.  _ God knows I can’t afford to lose any more friends. _

 

“Idiot that I am, I forgot to send for a car.” The sun was bright as they stepped off the plane but beginning to hang low in the sky. Alex was grateful that dusk was nearing, he was already ready to continue sleeping. “We’ll have to get a taxi like it's still fucking New York.”

 

They staggered onto the escalator and Alex ran a hand through his messy hair as it hit him, he was in France.  _ France. _ He had known french his whole life, his mother having been born in Montpellier, but he had never dreamed he would actually ever be here. Alex had been so grateful to have a place to stay that he hadn't even registered that this was like a miniature vacation.  _ I want to do so much tourist shit. I want to see the Eiffel tower and eat some fucking snails. _ As if reading his mind, Laf smirked at him.

 

“Tomorrow,  _ mon ami _ , after a full night of sleep, I will show you my town. We can go wherever you like. I can show you all the cute French boys. We can-” As they crossed towards the parking structure Laf trailed off mid sentence before freezing in his tracks so suddenly that Alex ran into him, the man’s words dying in his throat. Alex almost growled at him before taking in the look on his friend’s face and following his line of vision to a girl standing several feet away from them, arms crossed, in a soft purple dress. “Oh god,” Lafayette breathed, seemingly more to himself than to Alexander. “God give me strength.”

 

She was the most beautiful girl Alex had ever seen in his life. Adrienne, who Alex assumed it had to be, had short hair, curling just below her ears and mid neck, dyed a soft shade of blue. Her eyes were large and striking, a muted green, and painted with dark purple eyeshadow. Almost every surface of her skin that was showing, nose to shoulders, was covered with brown freckles. But it wasn't even her physical beauty that was so compelling, so entrancing. It was the way she held herself, the indisputable power in her eyes, the steadiness of her gaze that made both boys stand like statues in place, mouths hanging open. Alex had never been able to conjure up an image of someone able to outshine Laf in all his charisma and fire, but had he been able to, she fit the image exactly. Alex knew the shade of lavender that her dress was happened to be Lafayette's favorite color. He wondered if that was intentional.

 

_ She is fucking gorgeous,  _ he thought to himself. But, then again, maybe it was the freckles. 

 

_ “Well if it isn't my dear Marie Adrienne Françoise de Noailles.”  _ Laf was smirking but Alex knew him well enough to recognize the unease in his posture, the way he almost imperceivably drew closer to Alex. Adrienne’s eyes flickered to him briefly, noticing Laf’s movement, and Alex felt that he had been analyzed, mulled over, and dismissed all in a single blink.

 

_ “Marie Adrienne Françoise de Noailles de Lafayette.” _ She corrected, also in French, making no move to step closer.  _ “I kept the last name. Does well for me in some circles, stirs up trouble in others.” _

 

_ “You never could resist trouble.” _ He said, fondness creeping into his voice, and she cocked her head, a snake poised to strike, before smiling at him softly.

 

_ “Well aren't you going to give me a hug, you big idiot? Or do I have to beg you for it?”  _ Something in her tone made Lafayette immediately drop his bags and hold out his arms for her, to Alex’s surprise, which the girl ran into squealing. 

 

_ She looks so young. _ Alex noticed as his friend lifted her off the ground and spun her around, both laughing. Alex didn't didn't know what he had expected, from the way Laf spoke about her when he rarely did, but it hadn't been  _ this _ . When her name came up it was spoken with contempt, a hint of fear, but Laf’s smile as he set her down was genuine, beaming.

 

_ “Who’s the Mexican?” _ She whispered to Laf and Alex smiled tensely, narrowing his eyes.

 

_ “Puerto Rican.”  _ He responded in sharp french, satisfied by her surprised blink. He extended his hand.  _ “Alexander Hamilton.” _

 

She took his hand and pulled him in for a hug, kissing him on both cheeks with enough force to leave dark lipstick marks. Alex suspected this was her intention, already squirming with dislike.

 

_ “A pleasure to meet you. Adrienne de Lafayette. Although I'm sure my husband has told you all about me.” _

 

_ “Ex husband.”  _ Lafayette seemed to come out of a trance, grabbing his bags.  _ “Addie, how did you know to come here? I did not even tell my parents I was flying in.”  _ She rolled her eyes.

 

_ “You are not my ex if I haven't signed anything Gil. And did you really think Michel would not tell me?” _

 

_ “Wait,”  _ Alex turned to Laf.  _ “You're still married?” _

 

_ “What, are you his boyfriend?” _ Adrienne stepped closer, charming smile never faltering.  _ “Do not feel threatened. I am open to threesomes.” _

 

_ “Adrienne,”  _ Laf took a deep breath, Alex could see he was struggling with self restraint. At the girl's smirk, he concluded that she must know as well. The idea that somebody knew Lafayette as well as, if not better, than he did unnerved him. If he was being honest with himself, he felt ridiculously jealous.  _ “Alexander is my best friend.” Ha. “And I requested a default long ago so we are, in fact, divorced.”  _ He wore a matching grin, equally charming and lethal as hers.  _ “But I'll allow you to keep my last name. Let you cause trouble.”  _ Alexander looked between the two, with matching eyes ablaze, and felt, maybe for the first time ever, dangerously out of his depth. Lafayette’s cold calculations could be unpredictable and a handful, but  _ two _ of them? Two of these beautiful, poisonous beasts was too much to handle. One was plenty.  _ Welcome to France? _

 

_ “Come.”  _ She clapped her hands together, turning on her heels and giving them no choice but to follow behind the sway of her skirts.  _ “I will drive you to the house. Give your best friend here a chance to get settled while you and I talk. Get reacquainted.” _

 

_ “That's sweet of you,”  _ Laf said cautiously, glancing at Alex.  _ “But I can just rent a car. And we’re very tired Addie.”  _ She stopped to look at him, eyes staring into Laf’s unblinking.

 

_ “It’s been five years Gil. Five years.”  _ Her voice was laced with vulnerability and Alex suddenly felt unsteady, and more than a little guilty. He had been looking at her like some monster, some predator out to devour his friend, when she was just a young girl. A young girl with a broken heart, from the sound of it.  _ Like how you left Eliza. _

 

_ “We'll talk.”  _ Laf nodded reluctantly, smiling weakly at Alex as they followed her to a sleek black car.  _ “I must show Alex to the room first.” _

 

_ “That's fine,” _ She climbed into the car, Lafayette quickly sitting beside Alex in the back. He had never been so amused; back home Lafayette threw an absolute fit if he didn't get to ride shotgun.  _ “I'll wait in our living room.” _

 

_ “My living room.”  _ Lafayette rubbed his temples and Alex patted his shoulder, a mixture of concerned and entertained and annoyed and tired all wrapped into one tiny body.

 

He fell asleep on the ride there, and when he woke it was nightfall, Laf gently shaking him awake. The little house in the dim headlights was surrounded by countryside, the darkness and the wide expanses preventing Alex from seeing any other homes near by, if any were to be seen. It was appropriate for Laf, who loved to close himself off from the world.

 

“Come.” Lafayette lead him through the front door and up the stairs, the girl remaining below, and Alex promised himself that he would pay more attention to the house in the morning as he marched forward hazily. In his tired state, the only detail he managed to latch onto was the layer of dust that seemed to coat every surface, as if the place were an ancient, untouched relic.  _ You're too sleep deprived Alex. Lafayette is here every summer, this isn't some abandoned cottage. _

 

“Thank you Laf. For everything.” He smiled when he climbed into one of the two large beds and under the stiff covers, kicking off his shoes but not bothering to remove anything else. Laf sighed from the doorway.

 

“Wish me luck with Adrienne.” He mumbled, flashing a cheeky grin. “If you wake up and I'm dead, the vodka is in the cabinet under the sunflower portrait.”

 

“A true friend.” Alex chuckled, falling quickly into deep dreamless sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

_ “Well husband,”  _ Adrienne sat cross legged on the couch and eyed him warily.  _ “You haven't changed much. You look a little taller.” _

 

_ “And you have only grown more beautiful.”  _ He said softly, and he meant it.

 

Lafayette could hardly make himself look at her without feeling wildly guilty. He knew it was illogical, as he was not the one who had perpetrated the toxicity which ended their relationship, but he had thought that he loved her once. He had loved her, and then he had left her.  _ You had to. To save yourself. She would have destroyed you.  _

 

_ Yes, _ he conceded to himself.  _ But she had no idea how she was ruining you. You were the only one who gave her love, and you abandoned her.  _ This sentiment seemed to be reflected in her eyes, usually so strong and sturdy, now fighting back tears.

 

_ “Do not say such things to me,”  _ Adrienne whispered. _ “If I was beautiful enough for you, you wouldn't have left.” _

 

_ “You know why I left Addie.”  _ He said, a little too sharp.  _ “I couldn't play your games anymore.” _

 

_ “I was only a child.” _ She stood up and crossed the room to him. He willed himself to turn away, to cruelly deny her even eye contact, but instead he did nothing as she took his hands in her own.  _ “I knew how you loved me. And I twisted it, and manipulated you, and used you. I knew what I did Gilbert. And I am so sorry. But I was only a child.” _

 

_ “You still are a child.” _ He jerked his hands away, taking a step backwards and his back pressed against the wall. She moved closer, eyes wide and full of sadness.

 

_ “Gil-” _

 

_ “Everyone calls me Lafayette.”  _ He said quickly, reminded too much of the man he had come here to escape.  _ You came here to hide from one love, and another haunts you. “And we didn't love each other Adrienne. Not really. It was obsession for me. Entertainment for you.”  _ He said bitterly and she placed her palms against his chest, sighing sadly, so tragic and beautiful that he couldn't look away.  _ “Why must we fight? I haven’t seen you in five years, I hardly even remember what happened between us.” _ A lie, and both were well aware of it.

 

_ “You think I am a monster.”  _

 

_ “I like the blue.”  _ He commented after a long silence, touching her hair lightly.  _ “It suits you. Makes you look older.” _ Adrienne had always looked so much younger than she was. It only villainized him even more in the eyes of her parents and onlookers; older black man with such a delicate looking white girl.

 

Before he had left her, Lafayette had never known life without Adrienne. His life had  _ been _ Adrienne, completely. They had met as children and never left the other’s existence since, wound together tight as a rug. 

 

As a child, Lafayette was taken to many parties. Shown off, paraded about, dressed in stiff miniature tuxedos and kept awake well past his bedtime. His earliest memory, in fact, was of sparkling champagne glasses and hollow laughter, white lights flickering.

 

One party in particular he found himself dreading. It was at one of the large white mansions his family frequented, and he knew he would be expected to be on his very best behavior, not allowed any sweets unless he played the role of doting son. His father was the wealthy one, white and regal, but his mother came from lesser blood, black and new money. He was disliked in the elite community, he didn't need a translator to tell him that.  _ A child I may be, _ he had consoled himself, age eleven,  _ but I am no fool. I don't want to smile at people who laugh at me when my back is turned. _

 

And so, like a petulant toddler, he had snuck away from the ballroom floor, finding a cupboard half hidden near the top of an elegant staircase to crawl inside.

 

He immediately noticed that this hideaway was spacious, dark, and that he was not alone.

 

The figure whispered something to him in a language he did not yet understand, tone unwelcome and wary, and Laf had frozen. He was not known for his obedience, but this shadow concealed person clearly wanted him gone. 

 

_ “I am sorry,”  _ He had said, in french.  _ “I do not understand.” _

 

His eyes had adjusted to the light leaking in from a thin grate and he blinked as the figure turned into a girl, terribly small with eyes too big for her face. He was smitten. He was a child of money, accustomed to having anything that he desired. And Lafayette always wanted the pretty things.

 

_ “Get out of here.”  _ Her voice was like music.  _ “The adults will find us.”  _

 

_ “No,”  _ He shook his head, his admiration for her quickly replaced by his staunch desire to remain out of sight from prying eyes.  _ “I'll be quiet. I won't make a sound.” _ She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, facing the grate from which light was emanating. Hesitantly, he scooted closer, turning to face whatever held her attention so.

 

Through the thick mesh of the grate, he could see the entire party below them. He gasped at how dazzling the ballroom floor was beneath them, ladies in sleek shimmering whites and men in deep blues, spinning in circles and patterns like ants. 

 

_ “I come up here every time we throw a stupid party.”  _ She grumbled, and he looked at her.

 

_ “You live here?”  _ He had no concept yet of the intricacies of being wealthy, of being an old name. All he knew was that this house was bigger than his, by far, and he was in awe of her. The girl smirked. 

 

_ “Yes.” _

 

_ “I've never seen you.”  _ He had crossed his arms.  _ “And I've been to like, a billion parties here.” _

 

_ “I've seen you.” _ She pointed to the grate.  _ “I hate wearing stupid dresses and eating fancy food. So I just watch. And I've seen you before. You dance like a duck.” _ She giggled and he pouted, self consciously fiddling with his bowtie.

 

_ “I do not. How old even are you anyway?” _

 

_ “I'm ten.” _

 

_ “Well I'm eleven.”  _ He puffed out his chest proudly but deflated when she returned her gaze to the grated vent, unimpressed.  _ “I'm Lafayette by the way. Marie‑Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette.” _

 

_ “That's a lot. I'll call you Gilbert.”  _ He was not used to people being so unphased by him, so unphased by his name to which no door was left locked.

 

_ “What's your name?”  _  She turned to face him, mahogany brown hair curled to frame her petite face.

 

_ “Adrienne.” _

 

_ She never quite grew into those eyes, _ he thought, taking a step forward to discourage how close she was standing to him. She didn't take the hint and step away, only pressing closer to him.

 

_ “You truly think I did not love you?”  _ God, she knew how helpless he was to those eyes. He would be lying if he said he wasn't happy to see her, hadn't been anticipating some sort of reunion with equal parts fear and excitement. But right now, facing those eyes, he wished he had found a way to avoid her as he had every other year.

 

_ “I think,”  _ He swallowed, reminding himself to tread carefully.  _ “That you thought you loved me.”  _ She slapped him, the sting in her eyes hurting more than her hand against his cheek.

 

_ “You are so pretentious, so goddamn full of yourself.”  _ She had always been quite the sight when enraged, Alex had always reminded him of her in this way. Tiny fists balled up in a hatred too big for their bodies.  _ “You have no right to tell me how I feel or once felt.” _

 

_ “You're right.” _ He stepped away from her, exhausted, but she only followed him.  _ “But I know for a fact that we were no good for each other. I'm sorry I left you, Addie. But I'm not sorry I left. I had to.”  _ At his words she let out a cry of frustration, slamming her fists against his chest as if to force her desired reaction out of him. He just waited for her to tire, not possessing the motivation to stop her.

 

_ “You were always like this,”  _ Her tone was full of venom but her eyes were full of only sadness.  _ “So high and mighty. You think whatever choice you make is for the best, you don't think of the people around you.”  _ Her words stung sharply and he caught her fists mid air, leading her to glare up at him. Memories of past occasions mirrored exactly by their positions came back to him, penetrating the forefront of his mind. 

 

_ “Hit me back,”  _ She would challenge him constantly during their fights, quick to fury and quick to violence, despite being so small.  _ “I know you want to, I can see it in your eyes. Hit me.”  _ Slapping his face and chest, pulling at his hair.  _ “Hit me.” _

 

_ “I don't think you are a monster Adrienne,”  _ He said coolly, looking down at her as her posture relaxed.   _ “I think you made me into one.” _

 

_ “No,”  _ Her mood shifted immediately, as was typical Adrienne behavior. As unpredictable as the weather, a hailstorm with patches of sunlight peeking through.  _ “Gilbert you weren't a monster. That was my fault.”  _ They both knew exactly what Laf was referring to.  _ Hit me. Hit me. _ She had screamed in his face time and time again. Until finally, he had. 

 

That was the day he had left. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror, let alone at her.  _ Sure, _ he had tried to reason with himself.  _ She had hit you thousands of times. Punched and bitten you. Just because she's a girl doesn't make it any less terrible. _

 

_ But that doesn't give you the right to hit back. You should have left long ago. You should have never let yourself reach your breaking point, not with others at stake. _

 

_ “It was only once.” _ Adrienne whispered and he pulled away from her, disgusted with himself.

 

_ “I should never have laid a finger on you except in love.”  _ He stared at the ground, hatred welling up inside of him at himself. He wanted to tell her everything, to pour himself out to the girl who had once known every fiber of him.  _ I've been hit since Addie, and I can’t even sleep at night. I was attacked, and I cannot breathe.  _

 

There were various forms of abuse, he had learned after leaving her side. He hadn't gone straight to New York, he had lived in parts of Germany, Spain, and Athens over his travels, learning about himself and reflecting on her, and all the ways she had ruined him. Granted, it was not Adrienne’s fault he had completely and utterly worshipped her. He had thought she hung the stars in the sky, and she knew it.  _ It's funny, I haven't thought about or spoken of her in years, I forgot how it felt to be so enamoured. Maybe that is why I have always pitied John over Alex. _

 

There was physical abuse, of course. But he had never taken that seriously. She was so small, and she was a  _ girl. _ He had been raised very traditionally, taught good gentlemanly manners. Taught that men had to be strong, masculine. Something he had never been very successful in.

 

There was emotional abuse. Adrienne well aware that she had him wrapped around her finger, using him constantly for her own satisfaction. He was willing to do anything for her, and she took full advantage of this.

 

But by far the most scarring form of abuse he discovered haunted him from their relationship was that of emotional withholding. He had learned that there was a form of abuse in which the abuser would withhold their love or affection to further control their victim. Laf had no idea if Adrienne was truly that cunning, or just caught up in his adoration, but she was skilled in this art. It was years before she agreed to marry him, sleeping with him and taunting him without ever truly confirming if she cared for him. She would go out with other boys one night, then the next assure Laf that one day they would wed. It drove him mad, made him desperate. She would toss him crumbs of affection and he would feast upon them, even after marriage. 

 

It was terribly cruel, and it had made him hard. After leaving her, he discovered that his sexuality was not limited to women. He emulated his wife, leaving trails of broken hearts behind him. Lafayette hadn't cared what lies he had to use to get men in bed, he spoke whatever magic charms were required, then left the next morning.

 

_ “I was a child.” _ She said, repeating her words from earlier, and she tilted his chin up gently to look at her.  _ “I...I was selfish. And cruel, yes.  But I loved you. I just didn't know how.” _

 

_ “Are you trying to apologize to me?”  _ He blinked at her and she smirked, rolling her eyes.

 

_ “You idiot, that's what I’ve been trying to do for years.” _ He let out a surprised laugh and she hugged him, Laf taking a moment to respond, wrapping his arms around her gently, as not to break her. As not to break himself.

 

He wasn’t sure if he trusted her, or even believed her. She had begged for his forgiveness in the past, only to reel him back in and begin ruining him again.  _ You don’t have to trust her to forgive her. _

 

_ “It is I who owes you an apology Adrienne.” _ He rested his cheek on the top of her head.  _ “I struck you, like some animal.”  _ He felt his eyes well up with tears, which he quickly shut tight.  _ “And I had to leave after that. Because in that moment, I hated you. I meant it. And I knew I was capable of doing it again. I had to leave.” _

 

_ “We were both capable of many cruelties.” _ She held him closer.  _ “But we have both grown up. We can work past them.” _ He opened his eyes.

 

_ “Addie….you are not trying to get back together with me.”  _ It wasn’t a question. She looked up at him angrily.

 

_ “Why shouldn't I?” _ She stomped her foot, prone to pouting.  _ “I have known you all of my life, you are my soulmate. My  _ **_husband._ ** _ We belong together Gilbert. You left and that's fine and good but now you're back and we can figure this out. You saw other people, you got in your five years worth of fucking other men. Now come home.” _

 

_ “Addie,”  _ He stepped back, the determination in her eyes striking genuine fear into him. He had never been able to resist her will, but he was no longer some moonstruck teenager.  _ “We are over. We-” _

 

_ “No,” _ She took his hands aggressively.  _ “This is not some high school breakup Laf. We are not children playing love games, we are meant to grow old together. I am all yours.” _

 

_ “I am with someone else.” _ He didn't know why the lie slipped out, it wasn't a conscious decision. But with a swallow, he decided to follow his intuition.  _ “I am...I am with another.” _

 

_ “Oh.”  _ She stepped backwards as if physically wounded, eyes wide and imploring.  _ “Are you with….a man or a woman?”  _ He wasn't sure why it mattered, but he somehow knew that if he answered  _ woman _ , it would hurt her more.

 

_ “A man.” _

 

 _“Is it Alex?”_ She asked, not quite meeting his gaze, and were the situation not so intense he might have laughed. _Alexander?_ _Good god._

 

 _“No. He is much older.”_ _What are you doing?_ Why was he thinking of George when he answered? Was he trying to fool himself? _Speaking it does not make it true, little fool. You need to get over him, not play pretend._ Adrienne nodded.

 

_ “I am not surprised, to be honest. But I am surprised by how much it hurts.”  _ She laughed weakly, sitting down on the edge of the armchair, feet not reaching the floor.  _ “I suppose I always imagined one day you would come back to me. That we were the end result.” _ The pause after her words was heavy with meaning. Lafayette knew she was waiting for him to take her in his arms as he always had, as a part of him longed to, and assure her that they  _ were _ endgame. To promise that maybe if by a certain age neither of them were married…

 

_ “I thought so too once.”  _ Laf conceded, sitting down beside her on the couch, cutting off his own thoughts.  _ “You are a beautiful girl Addie, but we are not soulmates. We barely knew how to be people when we were together.”  _ She took his hand, interlacing their fingers, then sighed.

 

“I should go.” She said, speaking the first English since he had arrived. Her native tongue, which she avoided in his presence. He had never had the knack for it that she possessed, always felt more comfortable in french. It was a subtle jab, a quiet way of expressing hurt, but it was efficient. 

 

“No,” He replied, squeezing her hand, the language feeling like lead on his tongue, not it’s familiarity from the past five years. “You drove me here so kindly, and it's late. Spend the night.” Her eyes flashed.

 

“In the guest bedroom, or beside you in the same room as Alexander? I think not.” Her tone was contemptuous and Laf felt helpless as she stood up, pulling her hand away.

 

_ “Adrienne,” _ He stood up beside her.  _ “Don't be cross with me. Despite everything, it's good to see you again. Please stay.” _ She inhaled shakily and he feared that he had asked too much of her. But she turned her eyes to him again.

 

_ “I'll stay.”  _ The french was back.  _ “But only if you kiss me.” _ He blinked and she quickly continued, stammering over her words.  _ “It's pathetic I know but you left so suddenly and I always...I always just found myself wishing I had given you one last kiss goodbye. Just one last time. And I-” _

 

_ “Alright.”  _ He cut her off, hating the pity he felt for her when she rambled and hating the way her words made his hands shake.  _ “You don't need to beg, Adrienne. I will kiss you.” _

 

_ “Alright.” _ She echoed quietly, staring at him expectantly. 

 

He crossed the room to her, promising himself he wouldn't enjoy it, and kissed her very softly, arms around her small body. It was sweet surrender, not having to fight the craving he feared he might always have for her. Yet it was satisfying in that he knew he had complete self control. He was no longer spellbound to her, he had grown and escaped the cages of his youth. Lafayette was free, free to break the kiss whenever he liked and not fall again down the green of her eyes.

 

It was like kissing the past goodbye.

 

* * *

 

 

Eliza was folding the last of her skirts into her suitcase when she felt her roommate behind her, paused in the doorway rather than just sauntering into the room as usual. Eliza was not one to be haunted by anxieties nor paranoia, yet for some reason a feeling of dread permeated the air. She turned to face her roommate, whose expression was a taunt mask.

 

“Hey girl. Leaving tomorrow?” Her voice was off slightly, but Eliza didn't want to push her. She hadn't seen Maria since their last fight and she didn't want to leave for the winter on bad terms.

 

“Tonight.” She smiled at her sweetly, which the girl did not return, turning instead to the mirror and adjusting her hair.

 

“So,” Maria’s motions seemed stiff and forced, like a puppet or an actor being instructed on how to brush their hair. “I wanted to talk to you about Alex.”

 

“Maria,” Eliza closed her suitcase, trying to keep her tone gentle and demure but fighting back a wave of annoyance. “We already discussed this, let it go. I'm going to ask him out, and you'll see.”

 

“He kissed me.” Maria didn't turn around from the mirror, hands hesitating for an instant within her curly locks, before she cleared her throat. “At Angelica’s party.”

 

“What?” Eliza thought she must have misheard her roommate, must have misinterpreted her words. But Maria finally faced her and Eliza saw the truth in the girl’s eyes, sympathetic yet unapologetic. 

 

“I told you that he was like this Eliza. I'm sorry,” She stepped closer to Eliza, kneeling down on the ground so she had to look up at the girl seated on the bed. “He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He just goes after anything with a pulse, he would hurt you again. I know it.”

 

“You.” Eliza gasped, like the air had been torn from her. Like the oxygen in the room had all dispersed and her lungs were contracting, a sharp and unexpected pain. “ _ You. _ ” She stood up suddenly, glaring down at Maria. “You did this. You knew how I felt about him and you just….you just  _ had _ to throw yourself at him.” Maria’s mouth dropped open and the girl took a stunned moment to reply, quickly standing up.

 

“That's-that's  _ not _ what happened Eliza.” Maria almost never raised her voice, tone several octaves above what was typical. “All I had to do was flirt with him a little and  _ he _ came on to  _ me _ . We were playing never have I ever and I literally drank to being  _ gay.  _ He didn’t even notice. He didn't even know my name. He just cared that I was pretty.” But Eliza hardly heard her, cursing herself for being an angry crier as her mouth dried up.

 

“And do you just feel good now?” She felt hot tears touch her cheeks, slapping away the hard Maria extended towards her. “Did you prove your point Maria?” 

 

“God, this was not supposed to happen like this.” Maria choked, Eliza’s fury reaching a boiling point.

 

“How was it supposed to go?” Her throat was burning like acid, she swallowed heavily and took a breath.  _ Stop crying stop crying.  _

 

“I was trying to show you how he is, since you  _ refuse  _ to see.” Maria stared at her defiantly, mouth trembling. Eliza might have pitied her under normal circumstances, she knew somewhere deep down inside her that her roommate really only wanted to protect her.  _ Funny way of showing it. _

 

“Did you sleep with him?” Her tone shifted from fire to ice and Maria blinked at her.

 

“Of course not Eliza I….I’m gay. You know that.”

 

“I don't know what to think,” Eliza turned her back to the girl, grabbing her large suitcase roughly with both hands. “I don't know how far you would go to prove a point. To be right.”

 

“It’s not about being right it's-”

 

“How  _ could _ you?” Eliza dropped the suitcase again and faced her, expression open and imploring. Maria only stammered at her. “How could you do this to me? You wanted to prove that he would hurt me...by  _ hurting _ me? That's like...that's like breaking a bird’s wings to keep it from flying into a window.” 

 

“I was only-”

 

“Trying to help.” Maria’s voice was small, easy to cut off. “Yeah, I heard you the first time.” Maria’s expression shifted.

 

“Look,” Her tone was sharp. “I didn't force him to kiss me Eliza. I admit, it was a fucked up situation to put myself in. But I could've been anyone. Who knows who he’s gotten drunk and hooked up with in the very short time you two have been broken up? I needed you to see.” She stepped closer, palms open. “Do you see?”

 

Eliza stared at her for a long moment. She was not one quick to anger, she was not one quick to hold grudges. Yet she was one tired of the people in her life trying to dictate what was best for her, trying to control her and make her choices for her. She wasn't a naive child, she wasn't a lost kitten. And she certainly wasn't the girl who wanted to watch her life rush past like the view from a window on a train. 

 

So she looked at Maria’s eyes, normally so detached that were brimming over with emotions, and spoke two words she had never before said in her life.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

Eliza grabbed her suitcase and headed straight downstairs to meet her sisters, not once looking back.

 

* * *

 

 

When Alexander woke up, Adrienne was gone. The footsteps of Lafayette leading the girl to a bedroom down the hall had woken him briefly, long enough for him to make damn sure his tired friend climbed into the bed across from him, and not with her. But the sound of her leaving, evidently very early, had woken neither him nor Laf.

 

“Fucking hell,” Lafayette rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he stood in the doorway, yawning without bothering to cover his mouth. “She left already. That girl is as slippery as an eel.” Alex sat up, stretching.

 

“Gross I don't need to hear about your sex life.” Lafayette grabbed a pillow from the end of his bed and threw it at Alex.

 

“You idiot. C'mon, time to rise and shine.” Lafayette jumped on him, eliciting a tired groan from Alex, who tried to burrow back into the blankets.

 

“I'm jet lagged. Go away.” He grumbled but Laf only responded by tapping on his sleeping figure rhythmically, like a human drum set. “You have too much energy this early.”

 

“France is only six hours ahead of New York. And I am eager to show you off to my friends like a prized pony.”

 

“Six hours I could be sleeping.” Alex finally sat up, almost nose to nose with his friend, and shoved him off.

 

“So aggressive.” Laf was annoyingly still grinning from the floor. “Just wait until I get some  _ chocolat chaud  _ in you.”

 

“If I didn't speak French I’d think you were flirting with me.”

 

“Alright,” Laf stood up, sighing regretfully. “You leave me no choice.”

 

“Wait what are you-” Alex barely had time to roll over before Lafayette grabbed the blankets from underneath him and pulled sharply, dragging Alex to the floor with a yelp and a thump.

 

“Rise and  _ shine _ .” He sang triumphantly as he stood over Alex, who promptly kicked his legs out from under him so he hit the ground with the same amount of force and lack of grace. 

 

“I'm awake now.” Alex snickered, sitting up and shoving his friend. “You mentioned  _ chocolat chaud?” _

 

A couple hours later, Alex was incredibly comfortable and at ease in a small cafe in the local town, where everybody knew Lafayette. Alexander quickly got the impression that his friend was a minor celebrity, an incredibly rich french aristocrat choosing to bless this little area with his colorful presence. It was obnoxious, but their cookies and hot chocolate were free.

 

“So,” Alex tugged his scarf tighter around his neck, the rain beating against the window making him instinctively shiver, despite being rather warm inside. “How  _ did  _ it go with Adrienne?”

 

“Well,” Laf stirred his coffee, dazzling smile slightly faltering. “She ah, asked to get back together.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “I-I said no of course!” He stammered, sipping his drink.

 

“You did seem awfully happy to see her.” He kept his tone light, despite wanting to outright accuse his friend.

 

“I came here to escape my love life Alex, not get back together with my childhood sweetheart.” Laf picked away at the flaky crust of his croissant- _ how cliche- _ before turning his gaze back to Alex. “So, do you want to meet my family today or tomorrow?”  _ Quick to change the subject. Fine, I’ll leave it alone for now. _

 

“Those are the only two options?” He joked, then flashed his friend a cheesy grin under his unamused gaze. “Alright alright. I suppose today, that way you can take me to Paris tomorrow.”

 

“In Paris do you want to act like a tourist or just pretend you are local?”

 

“Laf, the first month in New York my diet consisted solely of hot dogs. Tourism, please.” Laf laughed, chugging down the rest of his coffee which a young barista dashed over to refill.

 

“Then we will buy you a beret and  _ escargot  _ my friend.  _ Merci. _ ” He smiled at the boy refilling his drink, who only blushed and nodded while the other workers observed jealously. “For today, we must head to the tailor’s and get you a suit. Something casual, maybe brown.” Alex frowned.

 

“And what, pray tell, is wrong with my Rolling Stones t-shirt?” Laf rolled his eyes.

 

“Alexander that thing has three holes in it that I can see from here and, for the last time, red is not your color.” He picked up his croissant and devoured it in one bite, standing so quickly that Alex rushed to finish his drink.  _ Okay, guess we’re leaving.  _ “Besides,” Laf smirked at him as they stepped outside, inhaling deeply and smiling at the city around him. “You are about to meet the most esteemed family name in all of France. Maybe dress nice and comb your hair so you don't look like Samara from The Ring.” If Alex wasn't certain the entire town would have him beheaded he would've smacked Lafayette.

 

“I'll crawl out of your television and shove my hole ridden tennis shoe right up your ass.” Alex snapped as Lafayette continued walking, pace fast even for his long legs, Alex had to half jump half skip to keep up.

 

“That's right, we’ll need shoes too.”

 

“Laf,” Alex panted, eyebrows pressing together. “Will they really care so much about how I look? You're starting to make me nervous.” Laf stopped and turned to him, Alex nearly crashing into him.

 

“Alexander,” Laf smiled nervously. “My parents adored Adrienne, you see. And I uh….I have not been...home since I left her.” He continued talking, pretending to ignore Alex’s look of incredulity. “The last time they saw me, I was running away from my marriage. Now, we are on in good terms, obviously. I have since called and explained, they support me in whatever I do. They still send me money, and I still have several estates under my own name. But they haven't  _ seen _ me, not outside of Skype. I just…” He let out a huge breath. “I want to impress them. In every way. I am not the kid who ran away any longer.  _ Comprenez-vous?” _

 

“I understand.” Alex said softly, nodding. Laf’s peppy smile immediately returned, as did his speed walking.

 

“Now then, how would you feel about a haircut?”

 

* * *

 

  
  
Angelica was an artist with her words, she knew how to paint a lethal and pointed sentence. Knew exactly how to make her voice and message heard. It was why she excelled in debate, why she was majoring in criminal law. She understood the power of words, and always had the right ones ready on her lips. Yet she had none to describe how it had felt when she saw Maria Reynolds and Alexander Hamilton together that night.

 

It was at a party that she had first met Alex, where they had almost kissed. When Angelica had thought she saw Maria step outside, him drunkenly following, she had peeked out the doorway to check on them. What she saw had made her heart clench, made her lose the air in her chest completely. He was drunk, leaning against the wall just as he had towards Angelica a million years ago. And then she watched him kiss Maria like he had never kissed her. 

 

And she had never felt so stupid.  _ Did you really think you were special? One drunk night he almost kisses you, and you think you're his soulmate? _

 

_ This isn't like you. _

 

Angelica didn't necessarily look down on  _ love _ , just the people caught under it's spell. It made them idiots, it made them reckless. And worst of all, it made them willing to sacrifice themselves. She didn't love Alexander like that, perhaps it wasn't love at all. Just infatuation. But she had always just assumed that if, one day, she wanted to be in love with somebody, it would be him. That he would be there, available to her. 

 

It didn't hurt to see him kiss Maria because she was jealous. Well, not completely. It hurt to see him kiss her, because Angelica realized she was alone. She had always been alone. She isolated herself, made herself cold and hard and sealed away. She had always just seen herself as strong and independent, never quite comprehending the line between self sufficiency and a defense of solid ice. She hadn't completely realized this until she spoke with Eliza, living under the same roof again over the winter break. 

 

“So why,” She sat cross legged on his sister’s bed, cotton pajama pants an echo of childhood. “-didn't you tell me about you and Alex breaking up? Why did I have to hear it from Peggy?” Eliza took a deep breath.

 

“Angie, it's not that I didn't want to tell you-”

 

“Then why didn't you?” Angelica was ashamed at the whine in her voice, ashamed at the unexpected swap in their roles. Now she was the petulant child, Eliza the wise and patient one. And Angelica hated to feel foolish, like she had something to lose.

 

“Angelica I love you but I….I just can't handle the way you treat me sometimes.” Her sister’s words pierced her, robbing her of speech. Eliza went on, apparently having grown bold when Angelica wasn’t looking. “You think you're just protective, but you aren't. You're controlling. You've always just tried to tell me how to live my life, how to do what's best for me, because the only way you're happy is when you have the power.” Although her words were biting, her tone was anything but. Eliza placed her hands over Angelica’s gently. “But you can't control life. And I think you want to. So you don't commit to anyone or anything, you don't let yourself care, so nobody can hurt you.”

 

“God,” Angelica tried to sound casual, laughing. “You make me sound so heartless.” When Eliza didn't respond, her smile fell. “Well ‘Liza, thanks for telling me how you really feel. Where the hell is this even coming from?” She asked bitterly.

 

“Angie-”

 

“Maybe you're right.” Angelica had pulled her hands away. “Maybe I don't let anybody in. But that has nothing to do with me looking out for you. With me knowing what's best.”

 

“Angelica, you're my sister and I love you. But I don't  _ need _ you. Not as a third parent. I  _ want _ you, but as my friend. As my  _ sister _ .” It was too personal, too painful. 

 

“I can't stay here,” She stood up. “Being back in this house makes me feel like a child. I'm staying back downtown.”

 

“Angie-” Eliza had called after her when she stormed out, but didn't give chase. It seemed she didn't really mind if Angelica left.  _ Fine. See if I miss you either. It's not like we’ll be in a different state.  _

 

_ Eliza’s grateful to have you out of her hair. _ She berated herself, grabbing the suitcases she hadn't yet unpacked.  _ She's right you know. You're cold. You don't let anybody in, so no wonder you have no one.  _ She hopped back in her car, shooting a regretful text to her parents that she wouldn't have seen much of anyway. They worked through the holidays, always. She drove fast through the night, exhaustion never touching her. 

 

Angelica had always felt secure in her blanket of isolation, felt safe hidden away in her ivory tower. But the tower felt strangely empty now, would she rot here alone forever?

 

It took only one knock for there to be an answer.

 

A sleepy Thomas pulled his door open to the sight of her standing on his front steps, bags in hand, still clad in childish pajama pants, and chin forward defiantly. Daring him to question her.

 

“Angelica.” He blinked at her. She swallowed heavily, keeping her voice confident and steady.

 

“I came back to see you. To stay here.” She corrected herself, looking at him. “If….if that's alright I mean.” The slightest trace of vulnerability crept into her voice and he jumped to step aside, beckoning her in.

 

“God, of course! You're always welcome here Angie.” She thought his nervousness towards her was terribly endearing. It hadn't faded, even after all this time. Thomas would jump to please her, even from within his suave facade, and especially when they were alone together.

 

“Thanks.” Angelica said softly, sitting down on his couch. She patted the seat beside her and he hesitantly sat down, stifling a yawn. 

 

“What happened?” She let him take her hand, limp in his, and felt him touch her face. “Is everything alright?”

 

_ I don't want to talk about it _ , she wanted to snap. She wanted to shove him away and just sleep, handle it all in the cold light of morning. Maybe manage to go the whole winter break without talking to anybody. But instead, Angelica found herself leaning into his touch. 

 

“I don't really know how to be a person.” She said, staring at the wall. His hand moved to around her shoulders, bringing her close against him.

 

“I don't think anybody really knows how Angie, but you do a pretty damn good job.” She laughed hoarsely.

 

“Why do you like me so much?” She looked at him, his hair sticking out in every direction and wearing an old spiderman sweater as pajamas. “What have I ever done for you?” He didn't answer, staring at her quizzically. 

 

“Did something happen Angie? Because you can tell me.”  _ He’s supposed to be dumb and pretty, not perceptive.  _ But Angelica didn’t kid herself, she had never thought Thomas was stupid. Just naive enough to tolerate how she treated him, to tolerate her minimum effort, if any at all.

 

“Nothing happened.” She stood up, annoyed, and began to pace.  _ Just another trait you have in common with Alexander. _ “Nothing ever happens. Because everyone in my life seems to think I'm cold and distant.”

 

“Whoa, I don't.” He held out his hands defensively and she rolled her eyes.

 

“Of course you don't, you think I'm perfect for some reason. Well, I'm not.” She faced him, eyes blazing. “I've had feelings for Alexander Hamilton since I met him. Your self declared enemy, Alexander Hamilton. But I never did anything because I just push everyone away. And then my little sister, Eliza, gets a crush on him. So to keep her from finding out how I feel, I start dating  _ you _ .” She threw her hands up helplessly, throat stinging for some reason, tone sharp like a blade, intended to wound. “I'm  _ not _ perfect Thomas, I’ve been using you. I thought I was better than him, that I was above him, but I'm not. I'm selfish. Just like him.” Angelica felt like crying but she didn't, she never did, instead just staring down at him with bold defiance. Waiting to see if he would throw her out, or scream at her.

 

“So you feel….nothing for me?” Thomas spoke softly, after a long silence. Angelica only nodded, in disbelief that that was his only comment. “I don't believe you.”

 

“ _ What _ ?” 

 

“I said,” He stood up, forcing her to take a step backwards. “That I don't believe you.” He closed the distance between them, almost nose to nose, and she held her breath, anticipating a kiss that didn't come. He only looked at her from under his eyelashes. “I love you Angelica.” A whisper. “And I think you love me.”

 

“I don't.” She willed herself to step away, voice cracking. “Didn't you hear me? Didn’t you hear anything that I just said? I don't love anybody but myself, least of all  _ you _ . I'm just like-”

 

“Alexander Hamilton? No,” His hands held her face and her body betrayed her by pressing against his hands. “You're not. You always put your sister first, I  _ know  _ you. And maybe you started out using me but-”

 

“Don't delude yourself.” Angelica looked at the floor, eyes tearing up. “I don't love you.”

 

“Then why are you here?” Angelica wished he would yell at her instead of speaking in that prodding tone. “You came here, to my house, at two in the morning. We’ve been  _ exclusively seeing but not dating _ each other for almost four months. I think you're afraid to admit how you feel about me.”

 

“You're so smug.” She hissed and he kissed her, which she immediately reciprocated.

 

“Why do you keep fighting me?” He asked, pulling back, and she finally broke like the water in a dam, letting out a small sob.

 

“I'm scared of being selfish and I'm scared of being alone. I….I don't want to rely on somebody else. I don't want to be weak and let somebody else control me, but I don't want to be alone.” He rubbed her back.

 

“You aren't alone Ang. You have your sisters and all your clubs. I mean, you single handedly run the Queers and Allies club. And you have...you have me.” He sounded so unsure that it pained her, made her clench his sweater tighter. 

 

Angelica knew her words, always knew when and how to use them, and she wished she could take them back for making him sound like that.

 

“I'm tired of feeling lonely.” She sighed, burying her face in the soft fabric.

 

“Then let people in.” He kissed her forehead. “I know you feel lonely...but you aren't alone.”

 

“Did you just quote  _ Glee  _ to me?” She mumbled and Thomas chuckled.

 

“See, you can mock me for that all you want. But you’re the one who recognized it.” She snorted and smacked him, her unexpected laughter breaking an unspoken spell. Her smile remained fixed in place as she stared at him, only disappearing when she cleared her throat and averted her eyes once again.

 

“Thomas I didn’t...I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

 

“It’s okay.” He said softly and she opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by a yawn, embarrassingly huge. Thomas smirked. “Let’s get some sleep babe, we can talk more in the morning.” She nodded without protest and he led her up the stairs. Angelica was grateful that he kept his arm around her, holding her close and safe. “I'm glad you came here tonight Angie. You can stay with me however long you want.”

 

“Thank you.” She replied sincerely, shedding her clothes and crawling into bed beside him, finally feeling some modicum of comfort and familiarity.

 

Angelica took a deep breath, eyes fixed on the ceiling, and felt him wrap an arm tenderly around her.

 

“You said you loved me.” She said quietly, the dark air silent and taunting around her, and he took so long to reply that she was afraid he had fallen asleep.

 

“Because I do.” He murmured, and she waited until his breathing slipped into the even rhythm of dreams before turning to examine his face.

 

He slept with his mouth open, which was annoying. It lead to snoring, and possibly drooling. And he talked too much. He was impulsive, kindof an asshole, and  _ really _ pretentious. And Thomas was one of the few people she knew who somehow managed to simultaneously be an intellectual and a complete idiot.

 

And she thought she might just love him.

 

_ This is going to kill me. You finally let yourself fall in love Angelica, and it's with this imbecile. He's beneath you. He could hurt you. He could humiliate you. _

 

“I don't care.” She said aloud, and kissed his forehead before closing her eyes, matching her breaths to his.  _ I love you too. _

 

Angelica typically refused to sleep in any position other than on her back. Logically, it was the most secure. The safest way to sleep, to fend off some improbable night attack. But she fell asleep facing Thomas, his arms around her, back to the doorway.

 

* * *

 

 

“I haven't had my hair this short since middle school.” Alex examined himself in the mirror, continuously rubbing his hand along the back of his now exposed neck.

 

He and Laf had both donned rather dashing suits, informal for his family, Laf had insisted. If Alexander was being perfectly honest, he loved how dapper and suave it made him appear.  _ If I was some rich french boy, I would dress like this all the time.  _ But he couldn't shift his focus from his hair for more than a couple seconds, neatly trimmed and combed above his ears. 

 

_ This is good, it's a fresh start. _ He persuaded himself, choosing not to dwell on how much John had liked seeing it up in a bun. 

 

Every day, compulsively, Alex would watch John’s snapchat story. He'd refresh his feed, eyes glued to the screen, just  _ waiting _ to see if his friend had updated. It was the last glimpse he had of him; short videos of John laughing with his sister, pictures of his artwork. However, John never watched Alexander’s story. His videos of France, uploaded almost exclusively with John in mind, went unseen.  _ Is he intentionally avoiding watching? Or does he care so little that he's already moved on, that he doesn't even notice? _

 

“You look sharp,  _ mon ami _ .” Laf clapped a hand on his shoulder, His own hair slicked back into a tight ponytail. Alex scowled.

 

“Why did  _ my _ hair long make me look raggedy but yours is perfectly fine?” 

 

“Because I know how to style it.” Laf replied simply, adjusting his bowtie in the mirror. “Ready for me to call a car, or do you want to gaze at your hair for another thousandth time?” 

 

“You're the one who created this monster.” Alex joked, and within the hour they were in a sleek black car en route to the Lafayette estate.

 

“Do not look so nervous.” Laf said, fidgeting in his seat. “It is making me nervous vicariously.”

 

“How can I not be nervous?” Alex kept instinctively reaching for his hair to run his fingers through, frustrated every time he ended up just slapping the back of his neck. “If you're basically a prince, then I'm meeting the goddamn king and queen.”

 

Lafayette replied as they rounded the corner but Alex didn't hear him, a small gasp escaping his lips.

 

Alex had seen large houses before, mansions even, but the piece of architecture before them was beyond the scope of both his experience and his imagination. The front garden was guarded by a tall black gate and an archway of leaves, a neatly trimmed hedge stretching as far as the eye could see. The building itself, lying well beyond the luscious greenery they drove through, was like a  _ palace _ . It stretched so far along horizontally that Alex had to turn his head to view it all, magnificent pillars and marble statues adoring different entrances. It felt like an art museum, or a very expensive resort hotel, not a place where a singular family resided.

 

“You  _ grew up _ here?” Alex breathed and Laf smiled, forehead against the glass as if he too were taking it all in.

 

“Yes my friend. Although that petunia bush is new. Fucking hideous too, might I add.” Alex was in complete awe, forgetting to be anxious as the car crunched it’s way up the gravel to the front door. A tall man with white hair rushed to open the car doors for them, Lafayette squealed.

 

“ _ Michel!! You beautiful old man, come here.” _ He said in French, enveloping the surprised man in a huge hug. Michel shyly returned the gesture, then hurried to open the door on Alex’s side.

 

_ “Gilbert, it has been far too long.” _ His voice was thick, as if he were crying, but the man was smiling widely. Lafayette clapped him on the back, eyes misted and wild.

 

_ “Mother and father know we are here, no?”   _ The man nodded.

 

_ “Christophe and Marie have been cleaning the house all day. They are ecstatic.”  _ Lafayette turned to Alex, grin stretched wide across his face.

 

“Come, dear friend. Come meet the people you'll have to make small talk with when you're the best man at my wedding.”

 

“We all know that it'll be Herc.” Alex mumbled as a servant- _ oh my god he has servants _ -pulled open the front doors.

 

The house was just as beautiful on the inside as on the outside. The entrance room had a dome-like ceiling, adorned with intricate paintings and a huge shimmering chandelier that made Alexander feel like Christine Daaé. Lafayette lead the way through the room and down a hallway with several, dull colored portraits lining the walls.

 

“Oh my god is that  _ you _ ?!” Alex half squealed, pulling his friend to a halt in front of one of the more recent paintings.

 

It showed a young boy clearly Lafayette, wild hair barely tamed, and Alex thought that the artist captured his essence perfectly. The boy was sitting with a stiff back, chin forward, but his eyes were focused on something distant, blazing. As if it were a struggle to remain still when obvious adventure awaited him.

 

“Yes, it's me. I am so glad I grew into my nose.” Laf shuddered and traced his fingers lightly along the portrait, looking slightly disturbed. “Come.” He said suddenly. “I don't need a high school flashback.”

 

They turned a corner and entered a small, warm little living room in which the only pieces of furniture were a velvet purple. And seated side by side on a purple chaise were a man and a woman, talking quietly to one another with bent heads.

 

“Joseph!”  The woman, dark skin, short hair, and a light dress, stood up to hug him, tears immediately springing to her eyes. Lafayette held her tightly, His own eyes sliding closed.  _ I forgot he had so many names _

 

“ _ Mother _ .” He rocked back and forth holding her and Alex made eye contact with his father, blinking in surprise.

 

The man was white. He had sandy brown hair, a strong jawline, and he was  _ white.  _ Alexander would have never guessed that Lafayette was mixed, he had never mentioned it once.

 

“ _ Look at how long your hair has grown.” _ Lafayette’s mother’s voice was thick with accent, but it was not French. It was one that made Alex’s heart leap to his chest, Haitian creole. He would know it anywhere. 

 

“ _Son_.” The man, Christophe, stood up, taking Laf’s hands in his own. They looked at one another for a long moment, expressions unreadable, before tightly hugging. Alex felt intrusive when Lafayette let out a small gasp, wiping at his eyes as the man pulled away. _“Introduce us to your...friend.”_ _Oh my god they think we’re dating._

 

_ “Alexander Hamilton.”  _ He shook the man’s hands first, then the woman, smiling warmly at her.  _ “Born in Anguilla.” _

 

“Oh, I knew you had eyes like home _. _ ” She said, in English, and hugged him tight.  _ “Joseph I like this boy. He is-” _

 

_ “My best friend and roommate at Columbia.”  _ Laf replied quickly, eyes flickering to his father. The man nodded and slung and arm around Laf, the affection kiss he placed on his son's forehead a direct contrast to the image Alex had drawn up of him from his gruff attitude. In fact, nothing about him was as Alexander had ever pictured him.

 

_ “Your presence here is always welcome.”  _ The man addressed Alex, who felt like bowing for some reason.  _ They are so elegant. “Joseph, your presence is welcome here as well.”  _ His words were full of meaning that Alex could not decipher.  _ “Have you seen Adrienne since your return?” _

 

_ “Christophe!”   _ Marie slapped him lightly on the arm, clearly with no real malice.  _ “Do not mention the girl who is the reason our son left in the first place.” _

 

_ “Relax mother,”  _ Laf took her hand gently.  _ “I have seen Addie, we are on decent terms. Do not resent her on behalf of my incompetence. I have been gone for too long. I should have-” _

 

_ “Perhaps,”  _ Christophe cleared his throat, eyes sizing up Alexander.  _ “This discussion is better held in private.” _

 

_ “Or not at all.”  _ Laf offered with inauthentic chipperness. His mother smiled at him in fond amusement before turning again to Alex.

 

“Are you more comfortable in French or English, dear one?” She asked in a voice like that of his own mother, sweet and smooth as honey.

 

“Either one suits me.” 

 

“Would you care for some tea? Some coffee?” 

 

_ “Ah yes, Joseph have dinner with us.”  _ Christophe clapped his hands together excitedly, releasing his son and casually yet lovingly taking his wife’s hand.  _ “We’re eating in half an hour, won't you and Mr. Hamilton stay?” _

 

_ “I had no intention to leave. I miss Jacqueline’s cooking every day.”  _ Lafayette clapped his hands together in a gesture Alexander was more than used to, yet only now recognised as the exact mirror of his father.  _ How adorable. I wonder where he gets the petulant brat gene from. _

 

_ “Do they not feed you well in that dorm of yours?”  _ Marie’s frown was one only ever sported by the mothers of grown children, and she squeezed Laf’s cheeks while he frowned indignantly.  _ “You've gotten too thin.”  _ Alex snickered and she turned to him.  _ “You're too thin as well, young man. It's not in our culture to be so malnourished.” _ Laf gave her an affectionate smack, looking beyond bashful.

 

_ “Alexander is just small, mother. He doesn't need you making a fuss over him. And neither do I.” _ She gave him a stern  _ tsk _ and Alexander wanted to put up a mild protest. Nobody fussed over him, at least not like this. He didn't have family sending him money every week like Laf, or a mother who knitted him beanies like Herc. The only one who had  _ really _ ever worried about him was John.  _ And look how that played out.  _

 

_ “I think I'll give Alexander a tour until dinner.”  _ Laf continued, taking him by the arm. Alex was reluctant to leave Marie’s enchanting company, but he  _ really _ di want to see more of the house. It's grandeur was enthralling enough, but he had the distinct feelings the walls would unlock secrets about his dear friend.

 

_ “We’ll send Michel for you once dinner is ready.” _ Laf’s father waved as his son dragged Alex away, leading him to a huge flight of stairs.

 

“This place is wicked huge. Do you have like a left wing or an upper wing or like a-”

 

“East wing? Yes.” Lafayette gave him a crooked grin. “And here's something else; that entire wing is mine.”

 

“Jesus,” Alex breathed, nearly panting from the height of the staircase. “I didn't even have my own bedroom. I feel like this is  _ Beauty and the Beast. _ ”

 

“It  _ was _ set in France.” Lafayette walked slowly down the hallways, seeming to soak in the velvety burgundy and deep browns surrounding them even more than Alexander was. “Come Belle, I'll show you the library.” 

 

Alexander thought he was joking. Or perhaps just extending his little metaphor, as Laf was fond of doing. But he lead Alex through a misleadingly small door into one of the largest rooms Alexander had ever seen in his life, natural light pouring in through a huge skylight that created a beautiful yellow rectangle in the center of the expansive yet cozy room.

 

And it was filled from ceiling to hardwood floor with bookshelves. 

 

“Holy shit.” Alex whispered, spinning around to the delight of his friend. “I mean just….holy shit.”

 

“I have never seen you speechless.” Laf laughed and gestured to a wall in the corner, eye level with them. “Over here is the horror, my personal favorite. However right above it,” He looked around and then grinned, gesturing towards a rusted ladder half hidden behind the door. “Is the historical fiction.”

 

“Gimme.” Alex breathed excitedly, reaching for the ladder. Laf swatted his hand away and he donned his most extreme pout face.

 

“We can come back after dinner and you can take all the books you want, I promise. Nobody uses this room except for me. I wanna show you more of the house first.”

 

“Fine.” Alex grumbled, thrilled at Lafayette's offer and hoping he was sincere. If Alex could, he would take every single book home with him.

 

“This,” Laf opened a door several hallways down to an extravagant bedroom. Alex would not be able to find his way back to the library, or even downstairs, on his own.  _ This house is a labyrinth.  _ “was my room.” He sat down on the huge bed and Alex joined him, once again awed by the obvious luxury.

 

“I can't imagine growing up here.” He said and Laf chuckled.

 

“I uh. I didn't actually grow up here.” Alex stared at him quizzically and Laf rubbed the back of his neck. “When my mother and father first came out as a couple….it caused a lot of controversy.” Alex blinked.

 

“Was it-”

 

“Because she's black? Yes, for one.” Laf sighed deeply, gaze a million miles away. “And an immigrant. But worst of all, she’s new money.” He shook his head. “Certain circles are very elitist, and they shunned my father. So for a while, they split up. She left him, taking me with her, and we lived for about a year in some small little country house. That felt more like home than this castle ever could.” He shuddered and Alex studied him closely, absorbing all this new information and the past that Laf normally kept hidden away so carefully.

 

“It was small,” Laf went on, fingers running along the thick blankets beneath them. “But I adored it there. No more stiff parties, weird rules. I was happy and carefree, as children should be.” He closed his eyes. “Of course, I was relieved to hear when they decided to get back together. She would cry herself to sleep almost every night, and it killed me. But I couldn't bear it when she sold the house, I felt like I was losing the only home I’d ever really had.

 

“I had a terrible realization when we moved; that this home would be gone forever.” Laf went on, speaking faster, not looking at anything but the bedspread he was toying with. “That, even if I returned some day, it would not be the same. It would have new furniture in different places, it would no longer be mine. And I just,” He inhaled shakily. “I felt so alone.”

 

For some reason, the vulnerability in his voice made Alex want to kiss him.  _ You monster, _ he would later criticize himself.  _ Are you just attracted to people when they're helpless? Are you that sick, that you only want someone when they need you? _

 

“God, I'm sorry.” Laf laughed lightly after a moment, shaking his head. “I did not mean to dump some tragic rich kid tale on you. You who have actually lost a home.”

 

“Don't be sorry.” Alex took his hand and gave a squeeze. “Home for me is people, not a place.” Lafayette looked at him.

 

“Am I home?”

 

“Yes.” Alex smiled at him tenderly. “You're my best friend. Am I?”

 

“ _ Oui, _ ” Laf rubbed his eyes. “I have not felt lonely since moving to America. That's why it feels so strange being here, seeing all these old faces. I was always alone, always.”

 

“Was it Adrienne?” Alex was dying to know more about their relationship, dying to fully crack Laf’s shell of ambiguity that was wrapped up in the small, beautiful girl. Laf rubbed the space between his eyebrows.

 

“Her more than anyone.”

 

“I don't understand,” Laf looked up at him once more. “You seemed so happy to see her, yet you make it sound like….like she was the devil or something.” 

 

“Or something.” Laf grinned weakly. “The thing is Alex, she was not just my wife, she was my best friend. I grew up with her, only her. She was essentially the only other living soul I spoke to freely, no farce involved. Everyone else was simply trying to kiss my ass for the sake of the Lafayette name.” He rolled his eyes. “But never her. She knew me as no one did. And yes, we destroyed each other. But I  _ missed _ her. I missed her inherent understanding of me.” Alex’s heart twinged with jealousy, despite knowing it was illogical.  _ You didn't even know him yet, you can't be jealous. _

 

“Ruined each other?” Alex said after a silence. “I thought  _ she _ ruined  _ you _ ?”

 

“I am not perfect Alex.” Laf’s voice was thick, eyes flickering to the floor. “I have changed immensely since before you knew me but…I was not always a good person.”

 

“Lafayette I'm sure that's not-”

 

“I hit her.” He blurted suddenly, stunning Alex into complete silence. “I slapped her with the back of my hand, in the face. Like you would a….a disobedient child.” Laf spat, voice overflowing with contempt, clearly reserved for himself. 

 

Alex didn’t know what to say, his mind at war with itself.  _ You don't hit girls. _ It was embedded in him to his core, an unbreakable code, no exceptions. The law had since grown, expanded to never hitting the weaker, or the helpless. Alex had too much of a temper and a tendency towards moral ambiguity to promise himself he wouldn't resort to violence, but till he had never, ever hit a girl. 

 

But this was  _ Lafayette _ . The empathetic soul who had sucker punched a man on the subway for sexually harassing some poor woman, who still had panic attacks at the memory of his  _ own _ violent assault. 

 

Alex didn't know what to say, because he had never considered such a scenario. Up until a heartbeat ago, he would have bet his life that Lafayette wasn't capable.  _ I guess we’re all capable. You haven't exactly been perfect either Alex. Everybody makes mistakes….right? _

 

“Why?” He asked softly, free of accusation. It was all he could think of. Lafayette smiled bitterly.

 

“I suppose I simply...snapped. After that, I just left. I had known for a while we needed to split up, but I lacked the inertia. I was content to be miserable together. But after...” He swallowed, closing his eyes. “After  _ that _ , I had to just go. I was too afraid of myself if I stayed. Of who I would become.” 

 

“Laf.” Alex put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and at the touch Lafayette came undone, covering his face with his hands and shaking softly.

 

_ “J'aurais jamais dû revenir ici.” _ Alex put an arm around him, feeling like crying himself.

 

“Laf, don't cry. That was...that was a long time ago. You said yourself, you're a different person now.”

 

“ _ Monsieur Gilbert, _ ” The butler from earlier-Michel-peeked his head through the doorway.  _ “Dinner is almost ready.” _ It was as though someone had flipped a switch, Lafayette’s demeanour shifting and a dapper grin appearing on his face, hands falling away with a sniffle.

 

_ “Thank you Michel. We’ll be down in a moment.” _ The man turned and left and, composing himself in the time it takes to blink, Lafayette stood up and smiled at Alex. “C'mon, let's go wash up.”

 

“But Laf you-”

 

“Alex,” His tone was sharp and pleading. “We can talk later, please?” Alexander nodded and followed him back down the stairs, twisted hallways now more ominous than enticing.

 

Dinner was incredibly pleasant, even if it was too early in the day by Alex’s standards. Watching Laf’s parents was enchanting. For some reason, Alex had always pictured Lafayette growing up in a cold space, void of love, like John. But rather, throughout the dinner Christophe and Marie were very affectionate with one another, almost intimately so. The way he would constantly brush his hand against hers, the tender looks they exchanged, were so brimming with adoration that Alex felt he had to avert his eyes.

 

He could understand it, as he himself was beginning to adore Marie. She was sweet and charming, just as much as her son, and her laugh to her eyes reminded Alexander of home. He felt warm and welcome at their table, as he hadn't in a very long time.

 

But all the while, even while reminiscing about the island with Marie, he couldn't remove his focus from Lafayette. His friend was more mysterious than ever, managing to offer witty banter and charming laughter despite only moments before being completely unraveled. It unnerved Alex, made him wonder how much of the friend he thought he knew so well was a facade.  _ How long has he been hiding burdens like this? How can he so easily conceal it? _ Alex always wore his heart on his sleeve, and he had always thought Lafayette was the same.

 

“Alexander,” Marie grasped his hand in the doorway, her English thick and muddled with the sound of banga trees in the wind and the hot ocean air. “Please come visit again. You are so lovely, far too lovely for my son.”

 

_ “Mother,” _ Laf chided, smirking with his trademark coyness.  _ “You’re crushing my self esteem.” _

 

_ “Not possible.” _ Christophe smirked and, for the first time that evening, Alexander saw the clear resemblance. The man pulled Alex into a surprising hug.  _ “Nice to meet you, son. You're welcome here anytime. Encourage my rascal of a boy to visit more.” _

 

Laf hugged them both tightly, Marie almost refusing to let him go, before both boys climbed into the elegant black car, the moon high and large in the sky after the long dinner and even longer tour of the house, during which Alexander had filled his arms with books.

 

“Rascal.” Alex snickered and Laf smacked him, rolling up the partition between them and the driver.

 

“Now is the time for honesty, what did you think of my parents?”

 

“I loved them.” Alex replied without hesitation, setting his history books down on the floor of the car and turning to Laf. “How could you be so….”

 

“Calm?” Lafayette chuckled, a slight darkness returning to his gaze.

 

They hadn't been alone since before the meal, Michel accompanying them around the house afterwards, confessing to having missed Lafayette terribly. The man was sweet, if not a little bit shy, and Alex half suspected that Laf’s parents had enlisted him as a spy, to confirm whether or not Laf and Alex were secretly dating.

 

“It's kindof unnerving that you can act the way you always do.” Alex hadn't intended the statement to come out accusingly but he didn't retract it, staring at his friend with an unspoken question. Lafayette sighed.

 

“Don't worry Alexander. I'm not hiding away my troubles from you. It's just being back in this place,” He gestured vaguely, voice growing soft. “This  _ country, _ that brings it all swarming back. It's like going back to your high school when you were bullied, and you feel small again, despite all that you've achieved since.” He laughed bitterly. “This whole french world is my high school.”

 

“I don't like seeing you like this.” Alexander felt helpless. Lafayette wasn't wrong-he had not been acting himself almost the entire time they were in France. It was like Laf’s walls had been forcibly removed, leaving him bare and exposed. “Don't you come back here every summer and winter, why is it affecting you so much now?”

 

“I have only told you that I do.” Laf looked out the window. “I have stopped by my house once or twice to collect things, but for no more than an hour. I have other houses, in other places. I haven't seen my family or Adrienne….in five years Alexander. I have seen barely beyond the airport since before knowing you.”

 

“Jesus Lafayette,” Alex felt his face heating up in frustration. “What else have you been hiding? Who even  _ are  _ you?”

 

“Please,” Lafayette sounded beautifully fragile, tugging at Alex. “Do not take it personally or be so melodramatic. Do you think we would be so close had when we first met I said to you ‘Oh by the way, I've spent the past couple years running from my family and myself because I'm afraid of my wife. And I hit her, you should know that. Wanna grab a coffee?’”

 

“Fair enough.” Alex reached to run his fingers through his hair and his hand dangled in the open air, used to a long tangled mess. “But it just worries me….seeing you like this.”

 

“How do you think I feel?” Lafayette’s eyes had watered up again without Alex noticing. “I haven't had to deal with my past in a long time. I ran here to escape the present.” He chuckled. “Habits I guess.”

 

“Running doesn't solve anything.” Alex interlaced their fingers, running his thumb over the back of Laf’s hand. Laf watched the movement lazily, sighing. 

 

“I know that Alex. Isn't it funny, now all I want is to run to a new country?”

 

“You're not leaving me.” Alex said so quickly that it surprised both of them. 

 

And Lafayette was looking at him with eyes so full of uncertainty, of need, that suddenly they were kissing. 

 

_ This is not smart _ , he warned himself as Laf’s swift fingers undid the buttons on his shirt, tearing it away. He was grateful for the partition, hoping it was soundproof.  _ One, this is the back of a car. Nothing new but it's still in motion, which just seems risky. And two, aren't you taking advantage of him? He's in a vulnerable state. Are you really that selfish?  _

 

Answering his own question, Alex pulled away, the memory of John’s accusing eyes flashing before him.  _ I won't hurt another friend this way. _

 

“I'm sorry I…” Alex stared at Laf blankly, mouth going dry. “I don't know what came over me.” Lafayette was looking at him in confusion, eyebrows pressed together.

 

“Ah, alright then.” His friend said awkwardly, the air heavy with tension and both boys catching their breaths. Alex pressed his forehead against the window.

 

“I'm sorry.” He said softly. “It's just that it….it feels wrong now.”

 

“I understand.” Lafayette said, and let out another sad sigh. “God, there goes my last form of running away.” 

 

“God forbid we actually ever talk about our feelings.” Alex joked, relieved at Laf’s slight chuckle.

 

He resisted the urge to turn back around and fulfill that need he had seen in his friend’s eyes, fingers fumbling with redoing the buttons on his shirt and he stared out the window into the dark night for the rest of the drive back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bon sang, elle va me faire la peau.= God, she's going to eat me alive
> 
> Non, laisse-moi dormir, ducon= no, let me sleep asshole
> 
> chocolat chaud=hot chocolate 
> 
> J'aurais jamais dû revenir ici.=I never should have come back here
> 
> Thank ya'll for the comments. Also please keep in mind I am but a humble busy college student so my updates may not always be frequent but they are long and I love you and I havent forgotten


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how long this update took, although they usually take long. But i live in america and am very gay so donald trump being president elect has taken a year off my life(:
> 
> anyway thank you all as always for comments and your kudos and just lovely words. i thrive on it tbh. Always feel free to come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://angstypanfeminist.tumblr.com/) come be my friend!!
> 
> shoutout to @GrdMa for editing my shitty french and being the cutest lil smol bean that there is
> 
> enjoy the chirstmas fluff/usual angst!!

“Do you think you could help me convince dad to let me get a cat?”

 

John snorted at the request, amused that his younger sister would even attempt such a feat when Henry Laurens was known for his hatred of small “useless” animals, had barely even tolerated John’s turtle. Then again, their father had always been much more lenient in the wake of Martha’s big brown eyes. _Maybe because she doesn’t look identical to my mom._

 

“I mean, I can try.” He offered, enjoying the way the mush of melted snow sloshed under his feet as they walked, a stray twig or leaf occasionally crunching along with it. “I think you'd have more luck on your own.” Martha clucked her tongue, braids bouncing behind her.

 

“You act like dad hates you. Should've seen the way he was having the house cleaned just before you got here.”

 

That little detail made his heart sore, that John’s father had at least remembered what day he was coming back. However it simultaneously made him squirm, knowing his father had probably sent the maids into a frenzy. John hated having servants. Of course, he had loved them as a child, before he knew better. What kid wouldn't love having their shoes tied for them, or breakfast in bed? But come adolescence, he had come to see the people living within his house for being _people_ , had seen past the walls of his large, dark house. In South Carolina, the people willing to be live-in servants, willing to endure that humiliation and separation from their own family, were typically too poor or too desperate to find other work. And Henry Laurens took full advantage of this, particularly when it came to undocumented workers. It felt like modern day slavery.

 

“I don't think he hates me,” John smirked at her. “I just don't think that I'm his favorite.”

 

“Because that's me.” She teased, smacking him with the end of her braid.

 

Martha was not only the obvious favorite of their father, but of John as well. They were closest in age, with her graduating high school the following Spring, and John found that she had always innately understood him.

 

She had been the first one to know that he was gay, and he had been the first one to know about her anxiety attacks.

 

So the two had always been close, the only barrier between them being mixed perceptions of one Henry Laurens, and two different mothers.

 

 _“Gracias Lucia.”_ John said to the short woman who took the grocery bags from their arms as they reached the front porch, giving John and John alone a warm smile.

 

Martha wasn’t everyone’s favorite.

 

“I wish you would teach me Spanish so I could make friends.” She grumbled, unwrapping her scarf and yanking off her snow boots. John only chuckled. He _had_ attempted to teach his younger sister his first language many times in the past, but she was both incredibly impatient and incredibly lacking in motivation. If a task couldn't hold her attention, she quickly moved on.

 

“Jack.” John cringed at the nickname, suddenly feeling ten times smaller as his father rounded the corner, looking at them from beneath bushy gray eyebrows. “Why did you go to the store when Maria is going tomorrow night?” His tone wasn't accusatory, never had been. No, John’s father had mastered the art of asking a question in such a way that, no matter how you responded, you were made to feel foolish. Like a dumb, petulant child who would never be as sophisticated and superior as the one who rules over you.

 

“Martha and I wanted to bake cookies tonight.” John shrugged, refusing to meet his gaze and play this game. He wasn't a trembling teenager who could be pushed into submission, at least not anymore. “And we didn't have enough eggs or flour.”

 

“We just really wanted cookies daddy.” Martha’s voice had suddenly adopted a candy coating, sweet and smooth, and Henry’s gruff look disappeared. John tried not to feel bitter, grabbing his shoes by the laces and walking past both of them up to his room.

 

Martha followed, pausing in the doorway like a vampire awaiting permission. John pretended not to notice, shoving his shoes under his bed and grabbing his sketchbook with his back to her until she sighed and stepped inside, curling up on his beanbag. The purple chair was the only item in his room not exactly as he had left it the previous summer, accompanied by a thin dust layer, as he knew his sister would come slump here when she missed him.

 

“Why didn't you bring your boyfriend with you?” She asked casually but it made his eyes flicker towards the doorway. _How does she know about Nathan?_ He thought, heart thumping, before realizing Martha meant Alexander.

 

“He isn't my-” John stood up and closed the door as he spoke. “-boyfriend. And he had...different plans this winter.”

 

John wondered how his Alex was doing, an ocean away from him. _Not your Alex. He was never yours._ However he didn't wonder enough to ask Laf, or shoot Alex a text. _Is that bad? Am I a bad person for feeling….free?_

 

“Stop acting so paranoid.” Martha was typing away at her phone as they spoke, sinking almost completely into the bean bag. “What could they do?”

 

John wasn't hiding anything. At least, he didn't go out of his way to hide his true nature. He had never actually come out to them, but he knew his father and step mom knew. He had been outed against his will, violently thrust into the open. And his father and step mom knew that he knew that they knew. It was a complicated web, but John didn't care. He didn't need to speak the words _I’m gay_ aloud to them in order to feel validated. He didn't need his step mom’s frantic rush to reassure him, to comfort him as if he were suffering from an epidemic and he had to be told that he _wasn't alone_. And John certainly didn't need his father’s silent stare, condescending and full of absolute certainty that he had failed his only son.

 

Throughout high school, John had kept a very detailed diary beside his bed. He hadn’t many friends, hadn't yet accepted himself, and the diary was his closest and utmost confidant. In those pages he poured forth his soul, he sketched distant dreams he had, and he expressed every thought that entered his head.

 

Sophomore year, he’d had an agonizing crush on one of the dancer boys named Francis. Francis Kinloch. He was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and completely straight, dating almost every female cheerleader before graduation. John fantasized about him daily, his thoughts innocent and romantic. Holding Francis’ hand, wearing his jacket to class, writing out their names mashed together in different combinations. _Johnsis. Kinlens. Kinlaurens._

 

Of course, he detailed such fantasies in his diary. The book knew his very soul. One day during history class, Francis had tapped him on the back and said “Laurens, do you think we could partner up for the Cold War project?” John’s heart had nearly burst through his chest. He had exchanged numbers with the boy, naturally, and rushed home to write this new development down in his diary.

 

But the door to his room was open when he climbed up the stairs.

 

Immediately, John had felt his heart jump to his throat, had felt palpable coldness sink it’s teeth into his flesh. He had stepped into his room and gasped, hand covering his mouth as an instantaneous sob emerged. The drawers to his desk were torn open, notebooks exposed in the light and papers thrown about. And on top of his bed lay his diary, wide open, his own traitorous handwriting revealing his latest entry. A dream of kissing Francis in the rain.

 

John had never been so afraid in his life. Yet he was furious that his father would touch his belongings, would search him like a criminal, but he hadn't he deserved it? For his father had uncovered the exact crime he probably suspected John of.

 

Henry Laurens didn't speak to him for a month and three days. And when he finally did, the diary wasn't spoken of. He never mentioned it to John, treating his son as coldly as ever, and John put a lock on his door and told Francis Kinloch that he had already promised to partner up with someone else on the project.

 

“They can’t do anything,” _Not anymore._ “I just don't need to make it weird next time I bring someone home for the winter.” And as he was speaking, John realized that the image he conjured up was that of Nathan, not Alex. _My boyfriend_. His heart clenched and he sat cross legged on his bed, demeanor shifting to an almost wicked look as he turned to Martha. “I do have one, though. A boyfriend.”

 

“What?” She clicked her phone off and dropped it, grin spreading across her face. “No shit, really? Oh my god.” John laughed, her enthusiasm contagious and warming his chest.

 

“Uh yeah. We haven't been dating that long I mean.” He rubbed the back of his neck shyly. “But I like him a lot. His name is uh, Nathanael. Nathan.”

 

“So _that's_ who you were texting during dinner.” She jumped into the bed beside him, giggling mischievously. “John Laurens! Let me see a picture of him!”

 

“Okay.” John shyly showed her his home screen, the wallpaper a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together with matching giddy grins, the Hudson visible in the distance behind them. _God,_ John looked at himself as she soaked in Nathan. _I look so happy_.

 

The notion made him comfortable with his choices, granted him some semblance of knowing what he was doing, knowing what was best for himself.

 

“John he's fucking gorgeous.” His sister glared at him with mock jealousy, shoving the phone back at him. “You lucky bastard.” John laughed, gazing at the picture himself a little longer, before noticing the way Martha was biting her lip.

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asked and she glanced at him shyly.

 

“Okay I feel totally stupid now but I kinda...I kinda always thought that you and Alex were a thing? Even before you came out to me, I thought that he was your boyfriend.” John blinked, knowing at this point he shouldn't be surprised by Martha’s intuition but still impressed.

 

Alexander was the one secret he had kept from her, if it could even be called that. She had hinted in the past at whether or not John had feelings for the boy, and John had always dodged her not so subtle questions. He hadn't wanted anyone to know, he was ashamed of the extent of his pathetic, unrequited crush. He had never spoken about it to her or Laf or Hercules, knowing it was irrational but afraid that they would laugh at him. Or worse, point out how idiotic he was being, which John had always been well aware of.

 

“No, he was just my best friend. Is.” He corrected himself quickly but her eyebrow arched, catching him. He sighed. “Alex and I aren't exactly speaking right now.”

 

“What did you do?” Her tone was teasing but it got under his skin, mouth slipping into a tight frown.

 

“I didn't do anything _Margaret_.” He retorted and she scowled. “He just….he just fucked up and long story short, Nathan didn't feel comfortable with him around me.”

 

“Wow, he suddenly got less hot.”

 

“Look,” He rubbed his forehead exasperatedly. “I did like him, okay? You were right, I always liked Alex.” She smirked.

 

“I knew it!” She exclaimed but his frown made her clear her throat, triumph replaced by concern. “So what was the problem then, did he cheat on you or something?”

 

“What? No, we were never together.” She looked shocked for the first time in their conversation, granting him a crumb of satisfaction. “He never...felt the same.” He avoided using the word _love_ . The last thing John wanted was to invite pity from his younger sister. “Then I got with Nathan and he got with this other girl and he got really drunk one night at this party and kissed me.” He looked at her, trying to gauge her reaction, feeling foolish for confiding in her when he knew she looked up to him. _You're supposed to have your shit together in front of her John._

 

“So…” Her eyebrows lifted in confusion, as heavy and thick and their father’s. “He did feel the same then?”

 

“No,” John immediately dismissed her words. “He was just….drunk. And it made Nathan think he would try it again. Which wasn't fair to me _or_ of Nathan considering I still had feelings for Alex.”

 

“ _Had_?” She blinked incredulously. “So you're over him?”

 

“I don't know.” He said honestly, a small silence ensuing.

 

“Well,” Martha bumped shoulders affectionately with him. “As long as you're happy, big brother.”

 

“Don't call me that.” He smiled, glad she had squeezed the confession out of him. It felt like a weight pressing against his spine had been removed. “It makes me feel like some evil omniscient being.”

 

“Big Brother is watching.” She whispered ominously and then cackled, laying back on the bed. “Can we make the cookies now?”

 

“ _Now_?” He laughed, rescuing his notebooks from under her and flipping through old high school art. “I thought the point was to stay up all night watching movies and eating them by the fire?”

 

“I'm hungry _now_.” She whined before reaching for the book in his hands. “Lemme see. You used to draw me all the time, as the subject I have a right to view the art.”

 

“You should be a lawyer.” He tossed the book as her, mildly embarrassed of what his sketches used to look like yet proud at how much he had since grown. “The art of persuasion is your speciality.” She batted her eyes dramatically.

 

“What else should a beautiful woman to excel in?” He laughed and his phone buzzed, Nathan’s face lighting up the screen. “Oooh facetime, let me answer!” He shoved her away, snatching his phone in record speed.

 

“Get out get out.” He demanded, grinning idiotically at his screen as he shut the door behind his protesting sister, fixing his hair and taking a breath before accepting the call.

 

“Well there's a sight for sore eyes.” John laughed at Nathan’s words, shyly hiding his face in his pillow as he held his phone up before him and flopped down onto his bed on his stomach. “God, I miss seeing that face everyday.”

 

“It’s been like a week,” John said, blushing. “I missed you too Nate.” Nathan leaned in and kissed the camera, screen going black accompanied by his dramaticized kissy noises, and John found that he couldn't stop grinning.

 

“Someone,” Nathan teased. “Just finished wrapping your Christmas presents.”

 

“Let me see!” John rolled into his back, holding the camera above him, knowing he definitely looked cuter from this angle. “Tell me what it is!” Nathan laughed.

 

“Don't use that look on me! I'm not telling you, you'll just have to wait until Christmas.”

 

“ _All I want for Christmas is you_.” John sang, and this time Nathan ducking his head shyly.

 

“I wish you would come visit.” Nathan pouted. “I have all this mistletoe and nobody to canoodle under it.”

 

“Canoodle.” John snorted. “That's not even a real word.”

 

“Because there's no words to describe what I would _really_ do to you.” He waggled his eyebrows and John nearly dropped his phone on his face.

 

“Idiot.” John laughed, face completely red.

 

“So, how’s South Carolina life?” John recognized Nathan’s room behind him, as the boy had paid a special and rather expensive fee to remain on campus, and felt a pang of homesickness.

 

“Lets just say I miss New York.” John sighed. “I mean, it's nice to see my family again, especially my sister, but…”

 

“But it's not home.” Nathan concludes for him, John nodding gratefully.

 

“It’s not. And I miss you.” Nathan’s expression softened fondly, looking at John in a way that sent lightning bolts through his skin.

 

“I miss you too John.”

 

“Jack!” A voice called from a distance, accompanied by heavy footsteps on the stair.

 

John jumped upwards, an adolescent, dormant fear springing awake in him.

 

“Listen, I'll call you back babe. I gotta go real quick.” Nathan frowned in concern and confusion.

 

“Oh uh, alright. I guess I'll-” John hung up, biting his lip guiltily and cursing himself for the way his heart was pounding. _You have nothing to hide, there is nothing he can do or say to harm you. He has no power over you._

 

“Jack.” His father knocked once before swinging the door open, not awaiting a response from John. This rubbed the boy the wrong way for too many reasons, mood shifting quicker than he had hung up the phone. _Should've locked the door, you’d think I’d have learned by now._

 

“Yes?” John said after a long pause, irritation coloring his tone. His father had always used silence as a means of communication and punishment, letting you squirm in his quiet gaze while waiting for you to speak first, a sign of dominance. _I'm not in the mood for games._

 

“Your mother-Jane.” He corrected himself quickly, recognizing the flash in John’s eyes. _Your wife is not my mother._ “Wanted me to ask you why you didn't bring your friend home this Christmas.”

 

 _Oh did she?_ John felt unimpressed by this man who had so terrified him as a teenager. _He's your father._ He chided himself, guilt replacing his waves of hatred.

 

The man had never really known how to act around John, even before violating his diary. Henry Laurens, barely starting law school, had knocked up a girl he wasn’t dating, nor did anyone suspect them of intimacy; the daughter of one of his father’s maids. Eleanor Rodriguez was her name, a chicana girl only twenty years old. Henry’s parents, white and rich and untouchable, had pleaded with the girl to get an abortion, to not end Henry’s political career before it began. But Eleanor, a devout Catholic, wanted to keep it, and Henry had stood by her.

 

John wished he had known his father then, wished he knew the man from the stories and gossip. Because, as the rumors went, he had really loved her. Evidently his intention was to drop out of graduate school, to buy her a house and marry her. Henry’s parents, John’s bitter grandparents, had sworn to disinherit him if he on a ring on her finger.

 

“He swore that he didn't care,” the neighbors whispered, the elitist guests over for dinner parties, the political rivals, the South Carolina gossip mill. “That he would marry her anyway and live like a poor man. Poor and happy.”

 

Henry Laurens had a choice, but no one would ever know what type of man he would have proved to be. Eleanor died giving birth to John, disappearing from the world before even holding her son in her arms. And John believed that a part of his father had died alongside her. He chose to believe his father had not always been so cold, would have chosen Eleanor over money.

 

John had stayed at home with Eleanor’s _madre y padre_ while Henry finished school and soared in his political career, grandparents he came to love in the absence of both a mother and a father. John was four when his father bought his own house, married the daughter of one of their rich white neighbors, tore John away from the only home he had known, and ran for local government. John had always been told by his _abuelos_ that he looked like Eleanor, so he reasoned that this was the reason his father struggled to show him affection.

 

He couldn't recall being held by his father, not once.

 

“Alexander had other plans this Christmas.” John shrugged, struggling to meet the man’s gaze. “I figured it wouldn't be a problem.”

 

“Well, we bought enough food for one more person.” His father said nonchalantly, always passive aggressive in his cold remarks, meant to evoke guilt while keeping his own hands clean. _A true politician._

 

“I'm sorry.” John tried to sound genuine, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I was always under the impression that you didn't like Alex.” Henry Laurens arched an eyebrow.

 

“I never treated him with any disrespect.” _You didn't have to._

 

Embarrassingly, John’s father had always made him and Alex sleep in different rooms, as if terrified at the notion that two boys might have sex under his roof. And despite this, he never bothered to ask John if they were dating. _Never bothered to ask me if I was actually gay either._

 

“Well, he will be missed.” His father went on, sighing as though he bore the weight of the entire world personally on his shoulders. “Did you two have a falling out?”

 

“Do you really care, dad?” John huffed in annoyance, as much at himself as at his father. His tendency towards anger rarely flared up unless he was around the man. Contrary to what one might assume, Alex usually neutralized the effect. _Maybe him being such a ball of rage all the time cancelled me out. I had to be the water to his fire._

 

 _Don't dwell on that now._ The thought came to him not in words but as a feeling, a strong sense. _You have to learn to operate on your own._

 

“I don't appreciate your tone.” Henry said neutrally, leaning on the doorway. John moved to lean back on the bed, a mirror of the man, but paused and instead sat up straight. “Why don't you say what you mean John?” _Do as I say not as I do, I guess._

 

“I feel like you are trying to ask me if Alex and I broke up.” John didn't think himself a courageous person, but he knew he was capable of courageous things, courageous instances. And he felt very brave saying those words to his father in his high school bedroom, the ghost of his past self gazing at him with admiration.

 

“Well, did you?” Henry said after a long silence, the air very still, and John almost laughed.

 

“No dad, we were never dating.” His father blinked and John went on, not wanting to backtrack on the path he had already begun. “But we aren't exactly talking right now. He doesn't get along with my boyfriend.” _There._ Now it was out in the open, what should have been finished long ago was finally said. _You can pretend that I'm another one of your white, legitimate kids. You can pretend I'm just a ghost, let me slip under the radar. But you can't pretend not to know what I am, not anymore._

 

John wished, as his father looked at him thoughtfully, that the man would speak his mind, as he bid John do. _Son,_ he might say. _I won't lie, I'm disappointed. You were my first son, and I dreamed of raising you like me, like my father raised me. My image in you, so that I can live forever._

 

 _But you aren't like me, and you never were. You have the tenderness of your mother, though I never speak of her, I'm sure your grandparents have told you as much. I know better than to think I can change you, but it frightens me that you exist beyond my understanding. But maybe I've never accepted that you're gay, because you have_ **_always_ ** _existed outside my understanding._

 

_We don't know each other that well, but I love you John. You are my son, you are the remnants of the only woman I ever loved. I might never understand your nature, but I will be at your wedding._

 

But Henry Laurens was not a man of words. The two men looked at one another, each with a complex yet miniscule grasp of the other, of what they endured, and Henry took a long breath.

 

“Anything else you wanna tell me?” He said not unkindly, and John almost smiled.

 

“I smoke.” He blurted. “And...Martha wants a cat.” Henry just blinked, nodded, and turned to leave, pausing slightly in the doorway.

 

“Maybe,” He spoke slowly, like it pained him. “You could bring that new boy over here next year, for Christmas.”

 

“Okay.” John swallowed. “I’d like that.”

 

It was meager, a crumb. But it was something. It was a start.

 

* * *

 

 

adrienne marie: you better still have my number saved

french toast: new phone who dis?(:

adrienne marie: I hate you

french toast: do you tho

french toast: do you

adrienne marie: gilbert do not make me kick your ass in front of your sexy latino friend

french toast: please don't call alex sexy

french toast: you just took five years off my life

adrienne marie: t'es toujours putain de dramatique

adrienne marie: anyway I text you bc I'm throwing a wicked huge christmas party saturday and since you are back in this wonderful country you are invited

adrienne marie: and you can bring your friend

french toast: a formal party or a get drunk and lose my pants party

adrienne marie: have I ever liked formal parties

 

“Hey Alex,” It was day five of being in France, and the third day of them staying out in Paris. Lafayette was wealthy enough to afford a hotel, and he enjoyed the sparkle in his friend’s eyes when surrounded by sights of beauty. He felt like he was seeing the city for the first time all over again, through Alexander. It was a breath of fresh air, a true escape.

 

“Hmm?” Alex looked up from his book, one hand holding his page and the other rested lazily on the edge of the balcony.

 

“Feel like going to a Christmas party Saturday? Or has the lazy tourist life infected your blood?”

 

“Will I have to wear a suit and waltz or something?” Alex’s eyebrows pressed together. “I can only schmooze for so many hours.”

 

“It is not some rich kid party. Well, it is. But not a formal one. Picture a frat party but the frat boys are an incredibly wealthy girl who gets off on acting rebellious.”

 

“Oh so it's Adrienne’s party.” Alex closed his book, smirking widely. “I'm in. Can I dress like a sexy elf?”

 

“You can't sleep with anyone Alexander.” Lafayette smirked, already anticipating the flowing champagne and thumping music. Adrienne’s parties were something akin to the Great Gatsby. _So am I Daisy in this equation?_ “They are all my elitist childhood friends. Besides,” His eyes glinted. “You'll have no way of knowing if I have already slept with them.” Alex made a face.

 

“Jesus. I should have known your sexuality was cross continental.” Laf snickered.

 

It was terribly entertaining, if not a little frustrating, having Alex for a friend in on campus when they were both so sexually extroverted. There were only so many gay men on campus, only so many gay men in New York, and the two had to be careful not to bring home a former lover of the other. It was unspokenly agreed that that would be both terribly awkward and pretty gross. Laf didn't want to carry around the knowledge that him and Alex had kissed the same places, that this person would silently be measuring them against one another. _Maybe it's a little immature to worry about that so much, considering you and Alexander sleep together._

 

They had not yet in France, and Lafayette felt strangely uneasy at the thought of them having sex again after their last encounter. He loved George and Alex loved John. It was no longer just about relieving sexual tension between friends, now it was borderline pathetic. Just silently pretending the other was the one that they couldn't have.

 

It confused him terribly, though, the way Alex had kissed him and then pushed him away that night they had visited Laf’s parents. It was clear that Alexander had wanted to have sex with him, was visibly restraining himself, so why resist? It was pathetic, sure, but hadn't Alexander always been attracted to the pathetic? _He likes them needy, and I certainly was. So what was wrong?_

 

“Maybe we will find you a boyfriend.” Lafayette said abruptly, smiling afterwards as if to imply he were only joking. “Some Frenchman to occupy you. In multiple ways.” Alex snorted.

 

“Do I look like the type to want to date anyone?” His sentence drifted off towards the end, once spoken aloud the irony of his statement becoming apparent. Laf cleared his throat after a moment, silently cursing both John and Alexander for being so idiotic in their affections.

 

“Fine, I acquiesce. You can go as a sexy elf.” Alex chuckled and returned to his book, Lafayette’s eyes scanning over the city that held his heart, still thinking relentlessly of Gatsby. There were too many parallels between the book and his previous life here, of wealth and parties and notions of love. Adrienne’s role in his life was a far more overwhelming concern than Alex’s current strangeness.

 

 _There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy and the tired._ He thought, thinking that perhaps he was not Daisy after all. That he was Gatsby, Alexander his Nick. _And George my Daisy, so unobtainable and distant._

 

He watched the streetlights below him, one flashing green, and suppressed a bitter laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

Alexander did not dress as a sexy elf, despite Laf convincing him how amusing it would be. Instead he wore a rather adorable red sweater and brown coat, tiny reindeer dancing along the collar and sleeves.

 

“That thing is hideous.” Laf commented, dressed sleek and elegantly as ever. Alex stuck his tongue out at him, the car crunching gravel beneath them as they rolled up to the driveway.

 

Alexander immediately looked enamoured, the huge estate overpowered by flashing lights, pounding music, and dancing silhouettes around every corner. He could only imagine how Alex might feel looking at such a house, as it was far grander than that of Laf’s parents. However Laf felt only a nostalgic chill, shuddering silently. This had been a house from another life, one where he had followed Adrienne as obediently as a hunting hound, losing himself in her and its long hallways.

 

 _“Thank you.”_ Laf tipped the driver and climbed out, Alex gazing up at the house beside him. Affectionately slinging an arm around his friend’s shoulders, Laf guided him through the front door and down a hallway, towards the sound of thumping music.

 

Maybe Lafayette had been away for too long, grown accustomed to college level parties, or perhaps Adrienne was simply showing off. Either way, the crowd before them, the writhing mass of people blinking in and out of focus in the dim, colorful lighting, made Lafayette gasp in unison with Alex. _Holy shit._ The music was loud enough that he felt it in his chest, the door closing behind him as he hooked arms with Alex.

 

“Don't let go of my arm, if I lose you in this mess I'll probably never see you again.” He shouted to Alex, barely able to hear himself.

 

“ _What?”_ Alex mouthed back. Or maybe he was talking and Lafayette couldn't hear a single sound. Laf rolled his eyes and pulled his friend close, mouth to his ear.

 

“If you get lost,” Still screaming, still unsure if Alex could hear him. “Meet me here, by that...fishbowl.” On the table nearby was a fluorescent fish tank Lafayette noticed as he was speaking, the party lights causing the water to glow several soothing shades.

 

Alexander nodded, shouting something that sounded like it included the word _alcohol_ before confidently patting Laf’s arm and slipping away into the crowd.

 

 _Well fuck._ Lafayette felt strangely out of his depth, the faces around him unfamiliar. They were just drunk young adults, unaware of his name and status like most in France and also unaware of his charisma and desirability like people were back home.

 

A hand on his arm quickly tugged him to a darker yet quieter corner.

 

“You look like a little country girl lost in the big city.” Adrienne said to him, in English, eyes glinting.

 

And even in the sparse lighting, he could see she looked beautiful. Her dress was short and a glimmering white, as though made from crushed diamonds, and her eyeshadow matched it immaculately. _Her attention to detail was always an envy of mine._

 

“That is how I feel.” He laughed, stepping closer to hear her better. At least, that was what he told himself. “This is the biggest party I've seen you throw yet. It's like something out of Gatsby.”

 

“Gatsby? What Gatsby?” She quoted, always innately understanding him, and held out her cup to him.

 

“How do I know you didn't roofie this?” He asked, taking it from her regardless, and her smirk was lethal.

 

“Gilbert,” She drew closer. “If I truly wanted to sleep with you, do you really think I would need drugs?” _God help me._ He gulped and took a drink from the cup, recognizing the burn as straight whiskey and almost choking.

 

“I expected a mixed drink Addie.” He coughed and she laughed, throwing her head back.

 

“It is mixed. There's gin in there too.”

 

“Wild girl.” He shook his head , taking another long swig, and she took a drink herself, eyes not leaving him.

 

“Dance with me.” She discarded the now empty cup, placing it on a table, and held out a hand to him, fingers glittering with jewelry. He immediately took her hand but not to dance, turning it over in surprise.

 

“You still wear our wedding ring?” She appeared uncharacteristically bashful, jerking her hand back. “Doesn't that interfere with your game?”

 

“Men like to think they are brave,” She replied, chin high. “Sleeping with the wife of the great Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. Although truly,” Eyes downcast now, the picture of modesty. “I have been with few since...since you.” _I don't believe you for a second darling._

 

“Let's dance.” He took her hand once again, eager to change the subject and escape the intimate darkness of the corner. She quickly lead him to a larger room, lighting brighter and glowing, and pulled him close to the rhythm of the pounding music.

 

“I have come to a conclusion about you Gil.” She commented as he struggled to keep his wits about him, holding her so close. “I think you lied about being with somebody else.”

 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow, the song changing to a more familiar beat he could better twist his body to.

 

“Yes, I don't think you are with anyone. But I do think you are in love with someone.” She twirled around, making childlike dance moves looks elegant and sensual, before pulling him close again with a smirk. “Its Alexander.” It took all of Laf’s willpower not to laugh.

 

“Alex?” He looked around and spotted the boy across the room, near a table full of assorted snacks. Alex was rapidly filling two plates, glancing around as if worried someone might notice all the food he was grabbing, and Laf snorted in amusement.

 

“You can laugh,” Adrienne went on, eyes knowing. “But I have seen the way you two look at each other.” _Wait, what?_

 

“And...how do we look at each other?” He didn't want to fall into whatever game she was playing at, keeping his tone neutral, but her grin told him he had answered just how she had anticipated.

 

“You look at each other,” Adrienne spoke quietly, forcing him to lean in to hear her. “Like you want something you cannot have.” Laf looked at her incredulously.

 

“You are mistaken, Addie. Alex and I are only friends. We have never wanted-”

 

“But you've slept together.” She stared at him, unblinking. “Yes?”

 

“Yes.” He answered after a moment, growing uncertain. “But that was only-”

 

“More than once?”

 

“Adrienne,” He pulled away from her, annoyance sparked. “Not to wound you, but I have slept with _many_ people. And I feel nothing for them. To imply that-”

 

“But did you sleep with them more than once?” She blinked, feigning innocence. “Of your _dozens_ of sexual partners, have you slept with any more than once, other than Alexander?” _This is ridiculous._

 

“He's convenient.” Laf snapped. “We both do not catch feelings, we live together, we find each other attractive. It makes sense.”

 

“Ah yes. Your friend with benefits that you brought home to meet mom and dad.” His frustration was palpable, as she quickly laughed and drew him close once more. “Do not look so serious darling. Don't you realize that your defensiveness only incriminates you?”

 

“I think,” He growled. “That you are attempting to get under my skin in some desperate hope that I will sleep with you to prove a point.” Her smile remained frozen in place but Laf caught the dangerous glint in her eyes, the way her grip on him ever so slightly tightened.

 

“And I think that I have hit your sore spot.” The song changed again, a slower one, and their steps matched it immediately, heads bent together. “Gilbert, as I already said, if I wanted you to sleep with me I would not hide it. And if I thought it would change your mind, I would certainly attempt to seduce you. But I will settle for simply staying in your life.” He looked at her, determining that she was genuine, and sighed.

 

“Then I apologize for treating you so coldly Adrienne. I am simply...guarded around you.” She nodded, arms sliding up around his neck.

 

“As you should be. I have earned nothing less.” His hands were on her waist, steadying her as they danced.

 

“We are friends.” Lafayette said loudly, as if assuring both her and himself. She smiled.

 

“Then as your friend, I think you are in love with Alexander.” Laf closed his eyes. _Patience._

 

“And why would you think that?”

 

“Laf!!” Alexander surprised them both by tugging at Lafayette’s sleeve, the man jumping apart from Adrienne as if caught in the act. “There's some really great shrimp here. Oh hey, Adrienne. Oh um, _bonjour-_ ”

 

“I speak English too Alexander.” She said, smirking, and openly let her eyes rake over him. “You look good, did Laf dress you?”

 

“Yeah, he did.” Lafayette could hear the ownership in Alex’s voice, laying claim to Laf as his, and Laf would be lying if he said he wasn't thrilled by their obvious rivalry over him. _There's plenty Lafayette to go around._

 

“Well,” She held out her hand to Alex, an invitation to dance. “You look quite handsome.” Alex’s eyes flickered to Laf, who blanched. He recognised that tone, and he took Alex’s arm before the boy could respond.

 

“Actually, let me dance with Alex for a bit.” Lafayette said, and cursed himself when her eyes flashed. Now he had solidified her theory that he and Alex were secretly in love. _No you snake, I am just protecting him from the likes of you._ Adrienne shrugged.

 

“Alright, find me again when you are drunk, handsome.” She kissed Laf on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd, almost immediately finding another boy to take her in his arms.

 

“Okay seriously Laf, what is the deal with you two?” Alex said, biting into a thick cookie, and Lafayette glared at him.

 

“Do not tell me you would ruin the new coat I bought you by _stuffing the pockets_ with cookies.” Alex grinned sheepishly, mouth full.

 

“Hey don't change the subject.” He swallowed, holding out his hands to Laf to dance, and smiled cheekily. “The cookies are far less important than your relationship with Adrienne.”

 

“Why are all the people I love so insufferable?” Laf joked, pulling Alex close to him, trying not to let Adrienne’s words swim in his head.

 

“Aw,” Alex batted his eyelashes. “You love me.” Lafayette laughed and raised his eyebrows.

 

“My dear little lion, are you drunk?” He was only just noticing the limp way Alex was holding him, the dumb grin not leaving his face.

 

“Not yet, but I will be soon. There’s some good ass champagne here.”

 

“Just be careful, there’s more than that.” Lafayette said darkly. The parties of a suppressed, spoiled rich kid could get scarily out of hand. He knew without a doubt that cocaine, molly, and ecstasy would be floating around tonight. Adrienne liked to think Lafayette was as reckless as she, but he had grown. He refused to waste away his body for a night of pleasure. _Once was plenty for me, alcohol only for this man._

 

“Like whiskey?” Alex blinked innocently and Laf laughed, pulling him closer fondly, their dance almost a hug.

 

“Yes _mon amie,_ like whiskey.” He smacked his lips. “I've already had some, catch up.”

 

“Am I allowed hook up with anyone here, or did you really already sleep with them all?” Alex asked, only half joking, and Lafayette felt a jolt of jealousy curl in his stomach. _You would not sleep with me the other night, yet you seek a stranger?_

 

 _Why are you jealous?_ His self examination made him uncomfortable, thinking of Adrienne, and he shook his head. _I'm not. I am just confused. He was acting so strange the other night_

 

“Feel free to sleep with any of them. Just not Adrienne.” Alex blinked in surprise and Laf felt he had to explain, face flushing. “She thinks you are attractive, she mentioned.”

 

“Aw, would you be jealous oi she thought me a better lover?” Alex wiggled his eyebrows playfully, swaying slightly, and Laf pulled him closer to steady him.

 

“It would not be you I would be jealous of.” Laf confessed, surprised at his lips for betraying him, and Alex’s grin vanished.

 

“What do you mean?” _Addie was right._ _Well, partially._ Lafayette knew himself well enough to know that he didn't want Alex….didn't he?

 

“Alexander,” Laf sighed. “Why did you pull away from me the other night?” Alex seemed to immediately sober, looking down at his shoes solemnly.

 

“Laf,” He bit his lip. “It wasn't anything wrong with you. I just…” Alex took a long breath, pausing for so long Laf feared he would never conclude his thought. “I just am tired of the person I am.” His answer surprised Laf, who just stared at the smaller, vulnerable boy. “I use people, and I know I do. And I want to change. I can't just fuck with people’s feelings and get off on them wanting me. I….I have to be better. For John.” He finally looked up at Laf, eyes misted over. “If I wasn't so goddamn selfish...maybe he’d be with me instead.”

 

“Oh Alex.” Lafayette hugged him tightly to him, rocking him gently to the rhythm around them. “You are too hard on yourself. _Everybody_ gets off on people wanting them. You are just self aware enough to admit it.”

 

“No,” Alex shook his head, voice muffled by Laf’s shoulder. “Don't give me that kind of credit. I _exploit_ it. Lafayette, the other night I wanted you so bad. And do you know why?” He pulled back to look at him, eyes now bloodshot. “Because you were _vulnerable._ I'm like a fucking predator.” Lafayette swallowed, unsure how to take this information.

 

“Hey,” He cracked a weak grin. “You're talking to the guy who hit his wife. Like you told me, nobody's a saint. Don't change for John, change for you.” Alex nodded, rubbing his eyes, and laughed softly.

 

“God, all I'm good for is getting drunk and crying.” Lafayette laughed, squeezing his arms.

 

“Please, don't be ashamed to cry. You can balance out all the blubbering I've been doing lately.” Both chuckled, the atmosphere heavy around them.

 

 _He is a better man than you_ , Lafayette thought suddenly, watching the way he hummed along to the song. _He faces a challenge and he changes, he fights it. You just run. Run from your feelings, run from yourself._

 

“Laf, you can always cry to me.” Alex touched his cheek sincerely, brown eyes deep and expressive. “You're my best friend, you know there’s nothing I wouldn't do for you. If you wanna keep running, I'll run with you.” Lafayette looked at him.

 

“Alex, when did you know you loved John?” Alex flinched but smiled, as if trying to pretend the question did not phase him.

 

“Uh, I guess when I realized I couldn't have him? How fucked is that?”

 

“Do you ever think that maybe,” Laf licked his lips. “you convinced yourself that you loved him?” Alex’s expression shifted. Cautious, borderline defensive.

 

“I'm not sure I get what you're asking.”

 

“I mean, what if you don't really love him?” Lafayette felt drunker than he was, the night and the glitter of the air weighing heavily upon his stream of consciousness. “What if I don't really love George? What if we both just chose people we know we cannot have, because we don't really want to feel loved?” Alex took a step back, like Laf’s words were a blow.

 

“I don't think this.” He shook his head. “Don't psychoanalyze me just because being here makes you confused.”

 

“Think Alex, you never loved John all these years. Why now? Why him? You had Eliza wanting you, yet you ruined it once it started actually going well. You could've had John at _any time_ , but you only pursued him once he fell for Nathan.”

 

“Stop,” Alex closed his eyes tight. “I'm too drunk for this. I don't know why I love John now. Maybe I'm self destructive. Maybe I'm just that greedy.”

 

“If John suddenly turned around right now,” The music grew softer and Laf’s voice lowered to match it. “And left Nathan for you, deciding he wanted to be with you, would you date him?”

 

Alex stared at Lafayette, the flashing lights casting eerie shadows on his solemn face.

 

“No.” He whispered, blinking in surprise at his own words. “I….I want him, I do. But I couldn't date him yet. I need to change more. I...I…”

 

“That's our problem.” Lafayette felt like crying, although he didn't know why. “We want things but we wouldn't know what to do with them if we had them.”

 

“No,” Alex shook his head. “That's not it. I just know I don't deserve him. I could never deserve him.”

 

“Stop it.” Laf said sharply. “You are not less a man than he just because you can be selfish. Everybody has selfish tendencies. Look at John right now, he refuses to see your feelings for him. He refuses to see what this separation is doing to you. He's thinking of himself. But that is _good._ He needs to be selfish, for once. Being selfish is how we survive. We….we need to know what we want and just _go_ for it.” He was breathing hard, speaking too fast, and Alex looked at him.

 

“Then what do you want, right now, in this moment?”

 

“Honestly?” Lafayette frowned thoughtfully and Alex grabbed his arm.

 

“No no, don't think. Maybe you're right, maybe we both just deny ourselves things because we think we don't deserve it. So _what do you want_?”

 

“Right now? You.” Laf answered without hesitation, surprised at himself but knowing it was true. Adrienne had planted the seed, _damn her_ , and Alex’s confession of wanting to _protect_ Laf, protect him from Alex, had solidified it. Or maybe it was the fact that Alex would no longer sleep with him, making him want what he could no longer have.

 

“Okay.” Alex stared at him, nodding. “Why?”

 

“Don't turn the tables on me.” Laf laughed, but hummed thoughtfully. “Because I believe love is a choice. You have chosen to stay by my side all these years, and I yours. We chose to desire people we can't have, because we think we deserve it. But we could choose each other.”

 

“Don't you think that's settling?” Alex tilted his head. “We would both be giving up on the ones we really want.”

 

“I disagree.” Lafayette twirled to the music, footing and words sure and steady. “I think we fooled ourselves into thinking we don't deserve happiness, that we love people who don't love us. We could fool ourselves into loving each other. We get along well, we have good sex, we inherently understand each other.”

 

“I can't believe we are having this conversation.” Alex looked both amused and empathetic, like he pitied Laf. “Discussing the merits of dating each other. As if either of us want to date anybody.”

 

“This is true. Even I have the sense to know dating the professor would not go well.” And oh, did speaking of him wound Laf. _George._ He had avoided thinking of the man at all costs, caught up in Addie and the past and Alexander. _Would I be able to handle dating him? Or is he safer as something intangible?_

 

“Lets just make one of those pacts best friends make.” Alex’s grin was crooked and boyish. “If we aren't in a loving relationship by the time we’re thirty, let's get married.” Laf arched an eyebrow.

 

“That's hardly seven years away for me, my friend.” Alexander shrugged.

 

“If I can't find love in seven years, I don't think I could bother tolerating anyone but you. Like you said, love is a choice. I'd wanna choose to be with someone who already knows me, at that point. Starting from scratch is exhausting.”

 

“Do you think that's why you want John, because he already loves you?” Alex’s stare was hard.

 

“So do we have a deal, or what?” Laf shook his hand, amused but heart warmed. He knew it was silly, that they might be strangers in seven years, but he felt oddly comforted. _I have my safety net._

 

“Lets seal this engagement with more alcohol.” Alex dragged him towards the table with an assortment of bottles and began making a mixed drink. “God I wish I was like Herc with this stuff. He can make this drink that tastes like a jolly rancher and gets you _fucked up.”_ A couple overhearing them sniffed and Laf cackled.

 

“You sound painfully American my dear.” Alex held out his cup.

 

“Oh, like France is so superior. You don't even have peanut butter here.”

 

“Nobody tell Thomas.” Laf touched his cup to Alexander’s. “To our pact.”

 

“To our engagement.” Alex laughed, only deepening his endearment to Laf. _I do love Alex more than anybody. Maybe not as a romantic option, but God do I love this boy._ “Now it is consummated.” He said after both chugged down the contents of their cups.

 

“The word ‘consummated’ brings to mind a very different image Alex.” The boy chuckled.

 

“No sex here for at least seven years.” He waggled his finger in Laf’s face, clearly the drink already taking hold of his system. “Learn some new tricks for me in the meantime.”

 

“Great.” Laf mumbled, half to himself, and made himself another drink. Alex was cutting out the middleman and chugging straight from a bottle of vodka, fixing a smouldering gaze on some pretty oy across the room. “Now who can I sleep with, no questions asked?”

 

As if on cue, he took a long drink and lowered his cup, locking eyes across the room with Adrienne.

 

* * *

 

 

A loud banging on the door made Thomas jump, almost tempted to rise from his position on the couch and exchange some choice words with the rude solicitors. But Angelica’s hand, fingers buried in his hair, stopped him.

 

“Don't stop.” She breathed, more than enough to persuade him. He would stay buried under her skirt forever if it meant hearing her moan like that, moaning _his_ name.

 

The pounding on his door returned, persistent and too loud to just ignore, and Thomas growled in annoyance. He removed Angelica’s legs from his shoulders gently, the sound of her dismayed sigh quickening his steps, and he ripped open the door, stopping Aaron Burr mid knock.

 

“Burr?” He snapped, more annoyed than surprised. “What do you want?” Burr gaped at him, apparently at a loss for words in the face of his anger, before clearing his throat.

 

“There were some points I wanted to bring to your attention, regarding debate club. See, I know we intend on competing this semester and since you are going to be presumably president in the year to come-”

 

“Burr.” Thomas took a deep breath. “I admire your enthusiasm, I do. But it's winter break. Go home, listen to some goddamn christmas carols.”

 

“I'm Jewish.” He said flatly and Thomas threw his hands up in exasperation.

 

“Then light a candle or something. Whatever it is can wait until we come back.”

 

“But sir-”

 

“Look,” Thomas leaned in close. “Not to be a dick, but I have a beautiful girl behind me right now, _waiting for me_ , who has far more pressing and interesting matters for me to attend to. I'll talk to you later Burr.” Burr’s eyes widened in embarrassment and without waiting for a reply, Thomas shut the door and leaned against it, groaning in annoyance. _What a goddamn cockblock._

 

“Aw the poor kid was just passionate about debating.” Angelica smirked at him, sitting up slightly from where she was laying on her back, and he chuckled.

 

“Hamilton is passionate about debating,” He said, returning to the couch and laying above her, face inches from hers. “Yet you don't see him banging my door down the fucking week of Christmas.”

 

“Do not,” She entwined her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, down to her completely. “Mention Alexander Hamilton to me in the middle of sex or so help me god-” He kissed her, cutting her off, both smiling against the other's lips.

 

“Talk less.” He said in Burr’s voice, mocking something the man had said at the last meeting to Hamilton, and she feigned shoving him off.

 

“That's it. You’ve lost your Angelica privileges for the week.” He laughed and kissed her again, holding her tightly to him, fighting to keep her in his arms. And she very uncharacteristically didn't fight back, allowing him, probably for the first and last time, to win.

 

 _Whatever Burr wants can wait._ He thought, perfectly content in the arms of the most beautiful girl in the world.

 

* * *

 

  


french toast: merry christmas, general

unsaved number: how did you get this number gilbert

french toast: I know where you live are you really so surprised

unsaved number: merry christmas, Lafayette

french toast: and a happy new year

 

* * *

 

 

“I like the whole gift giving aspect of it, Laf knows that, but I don't really care for Christmas otherwise.” Alex shrugged helplessly as Adrienne crossed her arms in stern judgement, the red Santa hat on her head seeming to glare at him accusingly.

 

She, him, and Lafayette were sitting comfortably on the floor in front of the fireplace on Christmas Eve, cross legged, with empty cups on hot chocolate beside them and the fire crackling warmly around them, casting a tranquil orange glow.

 

The weather outside was not the warm and sticky sweet caribbean air, but nor was it the biting and furious cold of New York. It was weather Alexander could live with, favoring and craving heat and the sun on his skin and the safety of indoors.

 

“How can anyone not fucking like Christmas?” Adrienne held out her cup to Laf and Alex suppressed an eye roll at how quickly Laf jumped to refill it. He knew they hadn't slept together, he had spent nearly every moment of their trip at Laf’s side, yet their friendship remained a mystery to him. He liked Adrienne enough. Or at least, he was a capable enough actor to tolerate her presence when Laf had approached him.

 

“Do you mind if she spent Christmas eve and morning here?” He had batted those doe eyes that worked wonders for him on campus. “Her family is loathsome, and I feel guilt at leaving her alone with them.” So Alex, in the spirit of a holiday he didn't really give a shit about, was sitting beside a girl who’s freckles reminded him of the one boy he was trying to forget.

 

“I have negative associates with religion.” He snapped, smirking at Laf from across the room and into the kitchen. “Wanna get me some more hot chocolate too, angel?”

 

“Bite me.” Laf said, but returned shortly with two mugs.

 

“You don't have to set up a nativity scene.” Adrienne went on, holding her cup with both hands up to her face rather endearingly. “But it's fine to like, listen to carols and chug eggnog and shit.”

 

“And mistletoe.” Laf waggled his eyebrows and both the other two feigned gagging. “What, mistletoe is romantic?”

 

“It wasn't romantic Christmas 2010 and it isn't now.” She said and the two exchanged a secret little giggle, Alex squirming uncomfortably before clearing his throat.

 

“Well I don't like it. I only ever tolerated decorating that bullshit mini tree for John.” _There, that wasn't so bad._ Alex felt satisfied that he was able to speak his name without cringing, without fresh daggers stabbing into his heart, but he felt Laf’s eyes on him intently.

 

“John loves Christmas.” Laf spoke soft, like his words might shatter Alex. “You’d have to have learned to love it, little lion, that boy is a fucking holiday elf.” Adrienne’s eyes flickered between them.

 

“Is John your ex or something?” She asked and Alex laughed, a raspy sound.

 

“No. Just our mutual friend that I happen to be in love with.” Adrienne frowned curiously and Alex felt that he had disappointed her somehow, revealing his real and pathetic flaws.

 

“Huh. I didn't picture you liking anyone. I pictured you rough and solitary.” Her tone implied that this was a compliment, and Alex just stared at her, a puzzle with too many missing pieces.

 

“Not everyone is such a lone wolf as you, Addie.” Laf teased and she smiled, tension hidden in her lips.

 

“Yes well, I never chose to be alone. It was bestowed upon me.” She sipped her hot chocolate, arms wrapped around herself tight, making her appear smaller, and Alex decided that he did, in fact, like her. _In another life we could be friends. A life where you didn't hurt my best friend. He is more forgiving than I, little girl._

 

Alex knew Laf saw only his own faults, especially from the disdainful way he had spoken of himself when he told Alex that he’d hit her. Like Laf thought he was the most disgusting creature on earth. _Nobody could deserve to be hit, but abusers can also be victims. I don't believe for a second she wasn't intentionally sinking her claws into him, kneading him into whatever image she desired._

 

He knew Addie’s type, because it was him. Alex had the capacity to bend people to his will, he always had. And while he often resisted the desire to exercise it, on his darkest days he would fantasize about complete control, of men and women eating out of his hands while he remained an untouchable god.

 

“Being alone isn't so bad.” Alex leaned into Lafayette, half out of camaraderie and half out of a petty display of ownership. “I've been alone most of my life, before college, and I turned out fine.”

 

“We turned out fine too Addie.” Laf raised his cup to her. “We were raised alone, like displays in a museum. The children of the elite.”

 

“Look at us little caged birds now.” She smiled at him and Alex, looking young and spirited rather than the bitter and old beyond her years look she normally adorned. “We all grew up alone, and here we are. _Completely_ free of fucked up tendencies, strange attachments, and God complexes.” They all looked at one another and burst out laughing, Alex almost spilling his hot chocolate.

 

“Jesus Addie,” Laf breathed, barely able to speak for how hard he was laughing. “When you put it that way…”

 

“Merry Christmas to the disturbed and volatile.” She said, lifting her mug like a toast, and Alex grinned and raised his as well.

 

“I'll tolerate this commercialized holiday for that.”

 

“If we’re all cozily admitting how unstable we are,” Laf smirked. “Lets spike this hot chocolate, _oui_?” Alex feigned wiping a tear.

 

“How did you know it was my dream to be hungover on Christmas?” Addie laughed and stood up, skirt swaying with the motion.

 

“I'll get the whiskey. We can play Never Have I Ever, angry only child edition.” The mention of the game made Alex shudder, although he was unsure why.

 

“That game is for people who need an excuse to get drunk.” Laf said with a little snort. “We hardly need that. Not in my house.”

 

He brought back a clear bottle and poured a generous dose in each of their mugs. Alex was grateful he had long ago developed an immunity to the taste, lest it ruin his hot chocolate. _Maybe all college students are just functioning alcoholics._ He took a swig.

 

“Addie are you in school?” He asked and she laughed, already having chugged down her mug.

 

“Oh darling boy, would that I could be. Rich brats aren't expected to go to school. My job is to be beautiful, maybe backpack through Europe, and then find an equally beautiful, hopefully more elite husband.”

 

“Too bad you got a perfect score your first time around.” Lafayette winked, clearly amused with himself. “Can't win the lottery twice.”

 

“What makes you think I am looking?” She smirked and then looked at Alex, tilting her head.

 

“What are you studying Alexander?” Her accent made his name sound like _Alexandre_ and he adored it, almost blushing.

 

“Kinda two things at one. Political science and law.”

 

“Ans what do you wanna do?” She asked, tone motivated only by curiosity. He shrugged.

 

“To be honest, way to much.” He laughed, Laf chuckling beside him. “I want to write and also be a lawyer and also be in politics and also be a journalist so I just don't know.”

 

“Would you ever marry?” She blinked at him, sounding almost jealous, and he forced himself not to think of John.

 

“I...I don't know. Maybe if I was in love. But it's not high on the list.” She sighed.

 

“We are opposites then. I would love many careers. All I am meant to do is give my parents grandchildren. Rich, spoiled, polished little grandchildren to hide away.”

 

“Come to America then.” Lafayette contributed, polishing off his whiskey infused chocolate. “Your parents can’t control you there.” She snorted.

 

“They would cut me off for certain. And what skills do I have to last in the world?”

 

“Charge money for your damn good parties.” Alex offered and she giggled, holding out her hand to Laf for the bottle of whiskey and taking a swig straight from it.

 

“Lets sleep down here.” Laf said, voice distant and woozy. “Like a little campout by the fire.”

 

“There's perfectly good beds upstairs.” Alex argued but as the whiskey sank into his system, the stairs began to seem awfully long.

 

“I like it.” Adrienne said softly, passing the bottle to Alex, who took a swig and passed it to Laf. “It'll be like we’re children.”

 

“Alex just loathes Christmas magic.” Laf smirked, the bottle circling around again, nearly empty. “Don't you know that if you aren't a good boy, santa won't come?” Alex rolled his eyes, the motion making him surprisingly dizzy and he realized he had been rolling head head back as well, nearly falling over.

 

“Lets watch a Christmas movie.” Adrienne, seeming to be holding her liquor fine, suggested, and the boys nodded.

 

Alex crawled under his designated pile of blankets as Laf and Addie figured out how to turn on the television above the fireplace. They put on some French cartoon that Alex had never heard of but the other two seemed to have memorized by heart. Alex watched the screen lazily, a cartoon little orphan boy with a heart of gold learning to be Santa’s replacement, and he drifted off, smiling and imaging that he was the lucky french orphan instead.

 

When he awoke, the sky outside still dark, the television was off and the fire had drifted to a dim glow. His mouth felt painfully dry and he rolled over with a groan, noticing a figure hunched over the dwindling flames.

 

“Laf?” He mumbled. At the lack of a reply, he sat up, body protesting, and moved beside him. “You okay?” He didn't answer for several minutes, flames dancing in the reflection of his pupils.

 

“It’s this place.” Laf rasped to no one in particular, staring intently at the dwindling embers. “The last time I lived in this house, I'm this country, I was someone I didn't recognize.”

 

It was four in the morning, Alex confirmed by groggily checking his watch. He didn't know if Laf was rambling out of a lingering drunkenness, or that dark nostalgia that seemed to creep in with the holidays, with returning to one’s origins. _I can only imagine the state I would be in if I went back to St. Croix. Especially during December._ Alexander had always spent Christmas with his mother, the woman had made a big deal of the holiday, even despite them having so little. She always found a way to provide for Alex, make the house and world a little brighter. _Maybe that's why you're so bitter towards Christmas. You never had Santa Claus ripped away from you, just your mother._

 

“I love my parents,” Laf went on, running a hand through his tangled hair, ruffled from sleep and sweat. “But I can't be around them too long. They never wronged me, not intentionally. But the shielded me. They kept me away from the world, hidden like money. And when they did let me out, the rich crowds would laugh at me. The Lafayette name tarnished by some mixed race nothing of a child.” He sniffed and shook his head, Alex gently taking his hand, glancing back at Adrienne’s unmoving form. “And Addie,” He sighed. “She was my world. And perhaps she was cruel, but aren't all teenagers? I lost myself in her. I hate to leave her alone here again.”

 

“Laf,” Alex slung an arm around him, pulling the fragile boy close. “We need to go home.” Laf looked up sharply. “Listen, I don't care where we stay. With Jefferson. With Madison. It doesn't matter. You need to get out of this place. Come home to New York. New Year’s there is fucking awesome anyway.”

 

“I don't know.” Laf whispered hollowly. “Everything is waiting for me there, as it was waiting for me here.” Neither noticed Adrienne moving towards them until she was at Laf’s other side, taking his arm gently.

 

 _“Alex is right.”_ She spoke in French, voice soft. _“France was never your home, even when you lived here.”_ She laughed sadly. _“I prayed you would return to me but the man you were is no more.”_ She tilted her finger under his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze, and Alex averted his eyes, the moment overflowing with intimacy. _“In his place is a man much stronger, far too strong for me to bend to my will. And far too strong for this place where he was kept locked away. Go home, Gil.”_ Alex turned to watch her kiss his cheek, Laf’s eyes sliding shut. _“France and I will be fine without you.”_ Lafayette nodded, gazing at her with an unreadable yet potent emotion.

 

“Now please,” Alex waited a long moment before speaking again, tugging at Laf’s sleeve. “Let's go the fuck back to sleep.” Both giggled breathlessly and they crawled back towards their respective blankets and pillows on the floor. After a beat of silence, the warmth of the room filling Alex to his toes, Addie nudged them both.

 

“Hey,” She said, eyes glistening in the dark. “Merry Christmas.”  


* * *

 

 

unsaved number: stay safe gilbert

 

* * *

 

 

slice of ham: merry christmas :)

elizabeth sky: merry christmas to you too<3

slice of ham: grow some badass holiday plants for me

elizabeth sky: if you consider holly to be badass then I shall do my best

slice of ham: you beautiful green thumbed creature you

elizabeth sky: before you ask no. I will not grow weed

slice of ham: then what are we even doing here

slice of ham: jk but question could you grow pineapple

elizabeth sky: you and your little stoner friends

elizabeth sky:....in theory….i suppose

slice of ham: does it really grow out of the ground

slice of ham: kinda cool we can just bury little plant babies into the ground and then big mama plants grow

elizabeth sky: it's funny bc I can't tell if you are drunk or just an idiot

slice of ham: you'll be disappointed in the answer

slice of ham: I am, in fact, an imbecile

slice of ham: I kill every plant I touch

elizabeth sky: alright i'm buying you a cactus

elizabeth sky: practically indestructible

slice of ham: you would do that for me? :’)

elizabeth sky: yes but if you manage to kill it, you're hopeless

slice of ham: well I have a friend like you to teach me the language of the greens

elizabeth sky: lmao language of the greens

elizabeth sky: are we friends tho?

slice of ham: I like to think so

slice of ham: but it's up to you

elizabeth sky: oops gotta run it's breakfast time

elizabeth sky: have a lovely day, friend

slice of ham: :)

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: I miss you mon amie

zero to hero: how do you slip into french over text??? Now I know it's intentional

zero to hero: I miss you too, idiot

french toast: sorry I was such a little shit last time we hung out

zero to hero: you know it's fine Laf.

zero to hero: besides, you're always a little shit(:

french toast: I did not come here to get roasted

french toast: how are you gonna drag me like this when the entire north atlantic ocean is between us

zero to hero: lmao don't fuck with Hercules mulligan

french toast: just because your name is cool doesn't mean shit

french toast: don't even start the name war

zero to hero: ur right Marie, I would lose

french toast: I (: suddenly (: have (: to (: go (:

zero to hero: bring me back some french culture while ur gone

french toast: baby I got ur french culture right here ;)

zero to hero: if I didn't love you i’d hate you

zero to hero: when are you coming back to America

french toast: never(: vive la france

zero to hero: I do actually miss you, witty bastard

french toast: alex is the bastard and I would miss me too

zero to hero: lol are you ever capable of being serious

french toast: OH YOU WANT SERIOUS

french toast: Tu es l'un de mes amis les plus chers et je t'adore plus que ce que je peux exprimer. Merci de me tolérer.

zero to hero: I'm sure that's very sweet but it's in french

french toast: Google translate exists

zero to hero: yes but doesn't that like...solidify my point lol.

zero to hero: you cant even say something genuine in a language i understand

french toast: I can be genuine, Herc

french toast: I could be serious

zero to hero: I don't doubt that you are capable

french toast: being here...being around everything that shattered me so long ago...is making me weak

zero to hero: you are many things but weak is not one of them. If it's hard for you there, come home.

french toast: Ah but you see, lol, it is equally hard for me in america

zero to hero: then what you are hiding from isn't a place, or something stagnant. It's inside you

french toast: jesus

french toast: you know i love your wisdom but I do not like hearing what you say sometimes. lol

zero to hero: I know. I think your defense tactic is to brush things off, never look back

french toast: it has worked so far, no?

zero to hero: has it Laf?

zero to hero: come home

french toast: I am afraid

zero to hero: I know. But I'm here. You aren't alone

french toast: Alex tells me the same

zero to hero: then I rest my case

zero to hero: what are you scared of?

french toast: losing myself. Charles Lee. George not loving me. Finals. Running away. Dying young. Not dying young. Losing Alex. Losing you. Myself. myself. myself.

zero to hero: people change constantly, don't be afraid to grow. If that boy even thinks of you again, i will kill him. Anyone who doesn't love you is a fool, and doesn't deserve you so much as batting your eyes at them. I'll help you study. Alex and I will ground you to a place. Nobody lives forever, focus on the day to day. Old age is nothing to fear, it is the reward for a long life. Alex adores you. I adore you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

french toast: what would I do without you

zero to hero: continue to exist as the indestructible force that you are

french toast: I love you

zero to hero: I love you too

french toast: I am coming home for New years

zero to hero: good.

french toast: merry christmas

zero to hero: merry christmas laf

 

* * *

 

 

red lips: merry christmas

elizabeth sky: merry christmas

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: you left so soon

adrienne marie: I figured my parents would have an aneurysm if I didn't come home for christmas

adrienne marie: but I will see you again before you leave ?

french toast: of course

french toast: and you can visit in america whenever you want. I want us to stay friends

adrienne marie: don't get all sappy on me Gil

adrienne marie: but I want that too

adrienne marie: are you going to tell alex what happened at my party

french toast: what do you mean

adrienne marie: Gil

french toast: he is not my boyfriend. He doesn't need a list of everyone I sleep with

french toast: but yes. I will tell him. Just not yet.

 

* * *

 

 

angel of music: I went to the store to get pancake mix do you want anything

tjeffs: so early???

angel of music: I wanted to make you a goddamn christmas breakfast but you had no eggs or anything edible

tjeffs: it's a bachelor pad. Do you know what having food would do to my reputation

tjeffs: can you get orange juice tho

angel of music: sometimes you make me wanna kick your ass

tjeffs: is that a threat or a promise? ;)

angel of music: pulp or no pulp?

tjeffs: no pulp. I'm not demented

tjeffs: this is super cute by the way

angel of music: I was hungry don't make this a nicholas sparks novel

tjeffs: <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

angel of music: also i like pulp. So

tjeffs: I can tolerate pulp if it means you are happy

angel of music: god I'm getting milk instead

tjeffs: you act annoyed but i know you are smiling at your phone

angel of music: okay I actually looked around the store half expecting you to pop up like some creepy stalker

tjeffs: SO YOU ARE SMILING THEN

angel of music: blueberries in ur pancakes or chocolate chips?

tjeffs: B O T H

angel of music: you are a child

angel of music: but okay both

tjeffs: come back soon the bed is cold

angel of music: you have a heated blanket

tjeffs: :(

angel of music: I'm checking out rn

angel of music: stay in bed and go back to sleep. Ur ruining my cute fantasy of breakfast in bed

tjeffs: funny. My fantasies about you are very different

angel of music: tom

tjeffs: okay okay!!! Going back to sleep

tjeffs: merry christmas

angel of music: merry christmas babe

 

* * *

 

 

slice of ham: merry christmas John

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> t'es toujours putain de dramatique=you are so fucking dramatic
> 
> Tu es l'un de mes amis les plus chers et je t'adore plus que ce que je peux exprimer. Merci de me tolérer.=  
> You are one of my dearest friends and I adore you more than I can express. Thank you for tolerating me.
> 
> I ♥ comments


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys are so patient god bless I know my updates take like a month but its only bc I CANT STOP WRITING
> 
> enjoy and if you're reading this I love you
> 
> Also thank you all so so much for commenting they are all seriously so nice and make my entire month and I always forget to reply but they warm my heart to its core

 

“We’re back, bitches.” Alex said to no one in particular as he and Laf, exhausted but kept awake by the thrill of being back in New York, climbed into the subway that would take them home. “Wait fuck, I should've said ‘surprise bitch. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of us.’ Can we get off and do it again?” Lafayette smacked the back of his head, sinking into an empty seat in the car they had almost entirely to themselves, save for one sleeping man in the corner.

 

“When we get an apartment in the city, let's get it in fucking midtown.” Laf sighed, leaning his head against the rail that Alex gripped, too excited to sit. “I hate being so far from everything. I'm running on fumes.”

 

“Its midnight here, six in the morning in France.” Alex rocked back and forth on his heels, tempted to pace the subway car but knowing better. One incident had ended in a split lip and John making fun of him for weeks.  _ I wonder when John comes back. Or if he's already back. _

 

“So, logically, you should not have energy.” Laf smiled at him fondly through bloodshot eyes. “Yet here you are with goddamn ants in your pants. Jesus, I wish I could teleport. Then we’d fucking be home and I don't have to walk.”

 

“Teleportation would be your superpower? Really?” Alex scoffed, grinning. “I think I'd want like, telekinesis. Move things with my mind. Or flying! Basically just the powers they have in  _ Chronicle.” _

 

“So you could move me home with your mind.” Laf let his eyes slide shut again. “Less work for me so I don't have to drain my powers. Maybe, since you can give me a brain piggy back ride, I'd want to time travel or something. Maybe water powers. Like in  _ Korra. _ ”

 

“My bisexual icon. Hey, we’re here.” Alex nudged his friend who sat up slowly and Alex almost offered to carry him right there. Laf looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.  _ It’s been a hard fucking year for him. _ Alex thought suddenly, remembering how small Laf had looked in a hospital bed. He helped him to his feet.

 

“Ya know, I think I'm gonna get a job again. Like freshman year” Alex said as they walked, Laf leaning into him, up the stairs and into the cool night air. “Doesn't seem right that you're paying the room fee for both of us to come home early.” Before school, studying, friends, and clubs had completely taken over his life, Alex had worked the night shift at some little off campus diner. John had put an end to that as soon as they grew close, as Alex had been sleeping literally less than twelve hours a week.

 

“Please Alexander.” Laf rolled his eyes, head on his friend’s shoulder. “Don't be a martyr. I'm rich and I didn't do shit shit to earn it, so who cares? I wonder if the shuttle is running.”

 

“The shuttle?” Alex looked down at him. “Not past nine. But I did text our friend  _ with a car _ to pick us up on 111th.” He said as they rounded the corner to the street. Laf’s face grew immediately animated.

 

“Herc?!” Right on cue, a loud honk from across the street made both boys jump.

 

“How much are you charging sexy?” Herc yelled through the open window and Laf squealed, running across the (thankfully) desolate street to lean in the car and hug him fiercely. Alex climbed into the backseat, knowing all too well who the passenger side belonged too.

 

“Thanks for picking us up Herc.” The exhaustion was finally hitting Alex, letting himself lay down, cheek against the cool leather. He felt Herc pat his leg as Laf closed the passenger side door.

 

“I was just about to call you Alex. I was scared somebody kidnapped you two, you're thirty minutes late.”

 

“Laf couldn't find his luggage.” Alex said apologetically, the man in the passenger seat snorted.

 

“You waited thirty minutes to see if we were kidnapped? A couple of prime twinks like us would be the catch of the fucking day. We could be on a boat to some fat rich guy in California right now.”

 

“Why,” Alex mumbled from the back. “Would they put us on a boat? Isn't a plane a more direct route?”

 

“I’d Liam Neeson their asses.” Herc assured them, laughing loudly. “John and I would hunt you guys down, boat or plane.”

 

“Or car or train?” Laf snickered and Alex cleared his throat, feigning disinterest. 

 

“Have you...have you heard from John?”

 

“Not since right before break.” Herc’s voice held traces of pity that Alex immediately resented, bitterness twisting coldly in his stomach. “I saw him and...and uh, Nathan for lunch before he left. Cool guy.” Herc said almost regretfully, and Alex heard the unmistakable sound of Laf smacking him. Alex resisted the urge to roll down the window and jump out of it. 

 

“Oh neat.” Alex replied and winced.  _ Neat? Smooth. _

 

“Ya know,” Herc sounded cautious and Alex pressed himself further into the cushion. “I know you probably would rather not talk about it Alex but for the record….I don't think it's right.” Alex blinked his eyes open. “That he isn't speaking to you. I uh….I think it's fucked up.”  _ Whoa. _

 

Of course, Alex had felt this way from that moment John had tearfully explained in Madison’s apartment, since Nathan had told him off in line at Starbucks. But hearing someone else say so, especially somebody as ruled by logic as Herc, made his throat clench up.  _ I'm not being selfish this time, my feelings are actually valid.  _ He wanted to cry and kiss Herc’s cheek and thank him and punch Nathan in his stupid tall mouth.  _ Maybe, for once, I don't deserve this. _

 

“I missed you Herc.” He managed to mumble and his friend laughed, both boys in the front reaching back to pat him.

 

“I missed you too.” He heard the warmth in Herc’s voice, familiar as an old sweater. “And don't think I didn't notice that sexy haircut. When you wake up tomorrow, I want the full story behind that.”

 

“Tomorrow.” Alex agreed, drifting off to the familiar music of the honks and tire squeals of New York city.

 

* * *

 

 

slice of ham: hey by any chance are you in new york for this fine winter holiday?

elizabeth sky: as a matter of fact, I am

elizabeth sky: just further upstate than our campus

slice of ham: any new years plans? :)

elizabeth sky: why, trying to kiss me at the countdown?

slice of ham: elizabeth schuyler I think we both know your sister would string me up by the neck

elizabeth sky: she doesn't make my decisions for me alex

slice of ham: I'm kidding I'm kidding

slice of ham: if I really wanted a smooch nobody could keep me away

slice of ham: (don't tell angie i said that)

elizabeth sky: I won't tell my big bad sister that you're afraid of her :)

slice of ham: ham ain't afraid of nobody

slice of ham: okay but back to my point

slice of ham: do you wanna spend new years in times square with me and the gang??

slice of ham: in all my years of living in new york I've never seen the ball drop

elizabeth sky: god you triple text so fast it's like ur having the conversation with urself

elizabeth sky: YOU'VE NEVER SEEN THE BALL DROP

slice of ham: what can I say I like my personal space

elizabeth sky: I'm in but define the ‘gang'

slice of ham: me and laf and herc (my tall friend idk if you remember him) and ur sister

elizabeth sky: I know who hercules is we had a class together alex

elizabeth sky: lol you forgot John. Ur own best friend

slice of ham: he's actually out of town 

slice of ham: unfortunately 

slice of ham: or he would be there

slice of ham: for sure

slice of ham: bc we’re best friends 

slice of ham: hahahahaha

elizabeth sky: um. okay

elizabeth sky: did you already invite angelica? 

slice of ham: well not yet but I'm assuming she’ll say yes

slice of ham: why, do you want me not to?

elizabeth sky: we are kinda sorta fighting right now

slice of ham: omg

slice of ham: is it bc of me

elizabeth sky: lol no you conceited little acorn 

slice of ham: acorn????

elizabeth sky: it's bc shes being bossy lately. She gets bossy when shes insecure 

slice of ham: A C O R N ???

slice of ham: oh. Is everything alright?

elizabeth sky: yes acorn. 

elizabeth sky: and yeah. I think part of it is she just doesn't want to admit how much she likes thomas. But go ahead and invite her. I miss her face

slice of ham: does that mean I have to invite thomas -_-

slice of ham: bc it's almost not worth it 

elizabeth sky: Alexander hamilton

elizabeth sky: hey wait what's ur middle name

slice of ham: that's between me and my birth certificate

elizabeth sky: aww is it embarrassing

slice of ham: only in the context of knowing me

slice of ham: *deep sigh* it's Thomas

elizabeth sky: LOL

slice of ham: shut up schuyler

slice of ham: what's yours

slice of ham: it's something beautiful isnt it

elizabeth sky: Evangeline(:

slice of ham: FUCK IT IS BEAUTIFUL

slice of ham: like the star in princess and the frog :’)

elizabeth sky: I suddenly have plans on new years wow

slice of ham: elizabeth evangeline schuyler are you being sassy with me

slice of ham: I'm the sassy one in this friendship. If we’re both sassy theres no cool dynamic

elizabeth sky: maybe you'll just have to be the lame one then

elizabeth sky: I mean ur in debate club for pete’s sake

slice of ham: SO IS UR SISTER

slice of ham: “pete's sake” order has been restored

 

* * *

 

“I think New Years is my favorite holiday.” Martha said, eyes glued to the television screen on John’s dresser, absentmindedly scratching the ears of the little tabby kitten, a Christmas present, in her lap. John looked down at her, half sunken into the bean bag, and smiled.

 

“Oh?” He sipped his hot chocolate, the crowd in New York square looking almost surreal. He would watch the ball drop every year of his life, awed by the masses on the screen and the giant towers. Now that city was his home, more than South Carolina ever had been. He felt a pang at the flashing lights, the camera panning over grinning faces in scarves and hats. That was where John belonged, and he missed it. “Why is that?”

 

“There’s just something beautiful about starting fresh.” She said with a pretty little sigh. “It's a whole new year. A blank canvas. No matter what happened all year, you have another chance. New opportunity.” Her words made John feel wistful, even though he knew she was talking about how she’d gotten too nervous to ask out the boy she liked, and then he moved to Michigan. Still, her words rang true, no matter how she intended them.  _ All my years growing up here I was trapped. I was afraid of my father, I was afraid of myself. Everything i did was motivated by that lonely terror. And up until now, my life in New York has been ruled by Alex. _

 

It was true. His freshman year he had met the boy and been immediately smitten. All his memories, all his growing and learning and changing, had been fueled in part by his love for Alexander.  _ It's not his fault, but have you ever been truly free?  _

 

“Can't believe mom and dad left for some party.” Martha huffed, not requiring a response to continue voicing her thoughts. “What if  _ I  _ wanted to go to a party? Why can't they have a party here, so I could at least sneak some booze.”

 

“You're too young to drink. Plus it's illegal.” John replied absently and she huffed.

 

“Well weed’s illegal and that doesn't stop you.” He finally looked at her, a smirk tugging at his lips.

 

“Now what, dear sister, would give you the impression that I smoke?” 

 

“You aren't so subtle, big brother.” She grinned at him, her kitten turning and watching him with matching giant eyes. “If anything, you were better at hiding that you’re gay than you were at covering the smell.” He threw a pillow at her, both laughing when the cat jumped and moved to her shoulder, eyes narrowing at John.

 

“Do as I say, not as I do.” He smiled, nodding his head at the cat. “What’d you name that thing anyway?” 

 

“Creamsicle.” She picked up the kitten, mewing in protest, and climbed onto the bed beside John. “I'm a big believer in naming animals after food.”

 

“I know.” He slung an arm around her, ignoring the way the cat climbed into his lap and dug its claws into his pant leg. “When I was in the fourth grade you wanted to name my turtle ‘Salad'.”

 

“Makes sense, he was green. And it's better than The Flash.” John gave her a wicked smirk before shoving her off the bed, rewarded by her squeal and Creamsicle latching its claws deeper into him.

 

Despite how unfamiliar this house he had grown up in might still feel to him, John was grateful he was here with Martha. They might be only half siblings, but John saw an uncanny amount of himself residing in the girl. He wanted to preserve it forever, the spark in her eyes, the optimism. Martha believed, as he once had, that people were inherently good, and that this good would always triumph. She believed in karma and heaven and soulmates. John knew better. He’d had to grow up too fast, knowing he was gay in a Christian, conservative town. Coping with the internalized homophobia, coping with never knowing the mother that he believed would have loved him unconditionally.  _ I just never want Martha’s spark to die. I never want her to grow up cynical like I am. _

 

“Whatcha doing on the ground Martha?” He teased. “Come back up here, the countdown is gonna start.”

 

She cautiously got back on the bed, now not daring to sit as close to him, and he laughed and slung an arm around her.

 

Aside from his darling sister, his favorite part of coming home was visiting his  _ abuelos.  _ Earlier in the week, borrowing the Cadillac his father had so generously bought Martha, he had driven down to the suburbs, feeling as though his heart, too heavy of late, could be lifted by the two dearest elderly people on the planet.

 

_ “John, my love.” _ His abuela had cooed in his native tongue, that one that filled him with nostalgia and a homesickness for something he couldn’t quite place. Not a location, but a feeling.

 

_ “It’s been too long.”  _ Last time John had visited the two, living on the outskirts of Charleston, his abuelo’s hair had been a sandy mixture of the thick, curly brown John had inherited and shimmering silver strands. It was now only a year later and his hair was completely gray, pulled back into a handsome ponytail mirroring John’s own, and this detail had made his heart jump to this throat.  _ You should come home more often. _

 

John had spoken this thought aloud, his abuela sitting him down and rushing to make him a bowl of lentils, and his abuelo had laughed, slapping him hard on the back.

 

_ “If you were here all the time, we would be pissed Johnny.”  _ The man grabbed a beer, his wife hissing playfully at him, eyeballing his ever growing stomach, and passed one to John.  _ “I’d much rather know you are off being a hot shot in New York, making money and making a big family.” _

 

His grandparents didn't know he was gay, being of the standard devout Mexican Catholic. John believed they would support him, every fiber of the two angels he didn't know how he came from was made of love, but he knew it would also break their hearts. They would love and support him, but they would weep into their pillows at night, thinking that their dear  _ nieto  _ would not get to join them in their eternal Heaven.

 

So John could refrain from hurting them. It wasn't as if he were a struggling teenager still, vying for validation. He was doing fine, he didn't need to be selfish.

 

_ “College kids don't have time for girlfriends.” _ He teased.  _ “Especially not art majors.” _

 

_ “Paint yourself a girlfriend eh?”  _ His abuela laughed loudly at her own joke, squeezing down between them on the couch ( _ mi pequeño y mi gordito _ she would affectionately call them) and handed John a bowl, kissing both their cheeks and eliciting a bemused groan from John’s abuelo. 

 

These people had raised him in all the ways that counted, taught him how to be a man and how to love. John was confident that if, from the start, he had been placed in the car of his too young, too malleable father, he would have never come out.  _ Hell, I probably wouldn't have even known I was gay. _ He’d probably be off somewhere, studying politics like his father at a local college, married to his high school girlfriend Martha, never having met Alex or Lafayette or Herc or Nathan or any of the other professors and people who had shaped him.

 

_ I wish you could have shared that part with me. _ John thought as he looked down at his younger sister, attempting to glare at him while balancing a kitten. 

 

Martha hadn't known such an infinite source of love and devotion, but she had never known the coldness John had either. Their father favored her, and her mother was still alive.  _ Don't pity her, she has everything you never did. _

 

“It's starting.” She whispered reverently, eyes glued to the announcer on the screen, and John kissed the top of her head fondly.

 

* * *

 

“ _ Excusez-nous! Un français très attractif et ses collèges beaucoup moins séduisants essayent de passer!" _ Alex rolled his eyes at Lafayette’s screeching, barely audible through the clamour.

 

They had arrived to Times Square well before eight at night, and it was already full to burst with people. Couples and friends wrapped in right scarves looking to cross this event off their bucket list, overflowing past the streets and sidewalks. Laf’s method was to shove their way to the front gradually, all gripping hands like a conga line, but instead this had resulted in them near the fringes of the crowd. Alex didn't mind, he liked more room to breathe and not having all the lovers’ obvious affection shoved down this throat.

 

“You're wasting your breath,” He yelled at Laf, who was tugging sharply on his arm. “I doubt anyone here even speaks french.”

 

“Than maybe it was just for your benefit.” He teased with a wink and stuck out his tongue.

 

“Here is good Laf.” Herc suggested with a shrug, shivering underneath his coat, beanie barely revealing his eyes. “We can see and we can breath.”

 

“It's kinda incredible that this shuts down the whole block.” Eliza blinked in wonderment, the blue glow of the neon reflecting in her eyes and prompted Alex to give her white mittened hand a soft squeeze. “Like, we’re standing in the middle of street in Times Square with thousands of other people.”

 

“I hate Times Square.” Angelica released Eliza’s hand upon realizing they had finally stopped shoving their way forward, frosted breath a representation of the chill in her eyes. “It's a tourist trap of bright lights. We could be getting drunk in a nice warm house.”

 

“It's a tourist trap for a reason, it's beautiful.” Thomas chided, Alex suppressing a shudder at having to endure that nasally voice.

 

Angelica was buried in a gray hoodie, several sizes too big, bearing huge block letters reading ‘VIRGINIA STATE HIGH’, Thomas’ hoodie. Alex hadn’t realized, before tonight, that Angelica and Thomas were anything serious. He had just assumed, via the grapevine, that they were fucking and nothing more. But tonight, when Angelica and Thomas had met up with the group earlier in a little coffee shop, wearing that hoodie, that detail had pricked him like a thorn. While he hadn't been paying attention, one of his closest friends had begun dating one of his most bitter rivals. And Alex wasn't sure how he felt about it.

 

To further fuel his confusion, instead of replying with some snarky insult and cutting rebuttal, Angelica leaned her head against Thomas’ chest, shrugging.

 

“If you say so.”

 

Alex had to look away, biting the inside of his cheek. He was jealous, but not of them. He was jealous of what they had, that easy camaraderie and validation that accompanied being so close with another person romantically like that. Alex had never been one to crave love. Sex, yes. But love?  _ Still, it’s not even that I want that mushy romance or that dependency. I just want it with John. _

 

To add salt to the wound, they had each other to kiss at the countdown. Lafayette would certainly kiss Herc, or maybe all of them, true Laf style. But John wasn't here to look at him shyly, running fingers through his curly hair, trying to bid Alex with his eyes to come press their mouths together. And Alex, pretending to be blissfully unaware, drunkenly kissing whatever stranger he had selected as prey for the night.

 

_ No, my Laurens is 11 hours away right now. At least we’re in the same time zone now. _

 

A plastic beach ball was bouncing along the surface of the crowd, gloved hands outstretched to reach it. It bounced towards Eliza and Alex smiled at her girlish thrill, jumping up on her tiptoes to hit it back into the thick of the crowd, delighted screams sounding from wherever it flew.

 

_ We are in even numbers. Herc and Laf. Thomas and Ang. You don't have to go without a New Year’s kiss. _

 

As if reading his mind, those eyes full of starshine found his, Eliza biting her bottom lip in a giddy grin.

 

“I've lived in New York my whole life and this never gets old. Granted, I lived upstate for most of it, but this isn't my first New Year's in Times Square.”

 

“It's our fourth.” Angelica provided, not looking up from Thomas’ chest. To Alex’s amusement, Lafayette snuggled up right beside her, leaning into Thomas with mock admiration.

 

“Oh  _ mon amie _ , you having the girls all over you makes you so much more, how you say, desirable?” He blinked at Thomas who brushed him off, attempting to smirk but succeeding only in looking bashful.

 

“That's exactly how you say it.” He grumbled and the rest of the group snickered, savoring watching Laf try and make his friend uncomfortable, wrapping his arms around his waist.

 

“Let’s have a glorious french threesome and eat Kraft mac and cheese after,  _ non _ ?”

 

“Kraft?!” Thomas looked indignant and Alex nudged Eliza.

 

“ _ That's  _ what bothers him.” 

 

“Oh Laf,” Angelica, grin stretched and catlike, wrapped her arms around both their necks. “If you wanted a threesome you only had to ask.” Now it was Laf’s turn to look uncomfortable, mouth dropping openly slightly, and Hercules let out a booming laugh that made them all jump.

 

“I'm glad you invited us.” Eliza said softly to Alex as the others chattered, holding his arm in her own and smiling at him. “My sister and I needed to see each other. And I love seeing her so happy.” Alex made a face, looking at Thomas pointedly.

 

“Yes but at what cost?” He teased and Eliza hit him, grinning, and their gazes caught, both smiling at one another for an instant too long. Alex cleared his throat, ducking his head shyly, and Eliza’s eyes fluttered downward.

 

“I don't think I mentioned yet but,” She looked back up at him. “I like your haircut. It's very handsome.” Alex laughed, uncomfortable with how flustered the small comment made him. 

 

“Yeah I don't think you had the chance in between Angelica ruffling my hair and Thomas just laughing at me.”

 

“Dearest Alexander,” Lafayette appeared beside him, grabbing his other arm with Herc not far behind, the group forced to huddle together as the crowd surged. “The countdown is starting.”  _ Quit flirting _ , Laf’s stern gaze bid him, holding him close.  _ Don't forget that you're here with me, this is our year. _

 

The announcer, giant and glowing on every screen, exclaimed the number that the entire crowd chanted along with him, eyes wide and grins wider.

 

**TEN**

 

“Normally you leave by New Year’s,” Martha curled up against John’s side, the tiny kitten nearly getting lost between their legs. “And I'm glad you stayed.”

 

“Would've sucked if I didn't.” John smiled, trying not to feel envious as the camera panned over his city. “You’d be home alone.”

 

_ I wonder if my friends are in that crowd.  _ John doubted it. He knew Alexander, and Alex would take getting high alone in his dorm with John over a huge mass of strangers any day.  _ But you aren't there, are you?  _

 

_ Doesn't matter.  _ He shook his head, blinking his eyes shut for a moment longer than necessary. This year had been long and hard, and he needed to start being more selfish.  _ I'm happy to be here with Martha. And that's what counts. Let the past be the past, it's time to look forward. _

 

And John’s smile grew genuine as he felt certain he had just found his resolution.

 

**NINE**

 

“Traffic on the way home is gonna be a bitch.” Thomas’ voice, too close to Alex’s ear, chirped and he rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to retort but Angelica beat him to it.

 

“It's still 2016,” She tugged on a lock of his hair, gaze a mixture of fond annoyance. “Worry about that in the New Year.”

 

“I can't see that well.” Lafayette whined purposefully and, with a dutiful sigh, Herc lifted him into his shoulders, the frenchman squealing with delight. “I'm king of the fucking world!”

 

“I can't believe this break is almost over.” Alex mumbled, watching people throw confetti and hats prematurely. “We’ll have to go back to class and get started on all these assignments. And I have been neglecting almost  _ all _ my clubs and-”

 

“Hey.” Eliza’s soft mittened hand slipped into his, smiling at him even as a stranger’s arm shoved him into her. “Relax Alex. It's New Year’s. Just clear your mind.”

 

_ Clear my mind. Yeah, I can do that. Clear my mind. _

 

**EIGHT**

 

“I wouldn't be home alone.” Martha stuck out her tongue at him. “I’d have Creamsicle.”

 

“Does dad leave you alone every year?” He asked, and her eyes narrowed at the clear accusation in his tone. 

 

“No, but when he does I don't mind. Ya know, if you would just spend more time with him-”

 

And John had to tune her out after that, wanting to avoid any and all arguing. There were aspects of his life that Martha simply couldn't understand, and he wouldn't begrudge her for it. She didn't know what it was like to grow up mixed, to grow up gay, to grow up with a father who would rather deny your existence.

 

Instead he let his mind drift to Nathan.  _ How did I get so lucky?  _ John had never had a real boyfriend before. He had dated a couple guys, had some strange makeout sessions, but growing up in the Confederate flags ablaze South had made John convinced that the whole world was like this. Sure, television told him different, but they were the anomalies. Even if he met another gay man, what were the odds that they would want  _ him?  _ That they could love  _ him? _

 

_ And now here you are, dating a beautiful chiseled man who’s crazy about you. _ John had trouble wrapping his mind around the concept, like it was all just a soap bubble dream that could pop in a flash. 

 

He was well past his internalized homophobia, but not his insecurities. And loving someone for so long who hadn't seen him that way had only validated those fears.

 

**SEVEN**

 

_ Eliza.  _

 

She was looking at him. Not the giant glowing orb, shifting colors, or the colorful array of people, many obviously tourists, tearing up at the beautiful of it all. She was looking at  _ him _ , with that same look he had always been drawn too.

 

_ If I believed in God, I'd think he was fucking testing me lately. _

 

“Lets kiss each other at midnight.” He blurted, confident that the clamor was too loud for the others to hear. She arched an eyebrow.

 

“What happened to just friends?”

 

“We are just friends,” He spoke quickly, the shouting of numbers filling him with anxiety. “I just have a history of bad choices and bad kisses and….it would be nice to start the year having kissed someone sweet and wonderful.” She blinked at him, emotions clouding her gaze, and looked away. 

 

“Okay. We can kiss at the countdown.”

 

**SIX**

 

“-just misunderstood.” John tuned back in just as Martha’s little rant ended and he just smiled at her, nodding with all the sincerity he could muster. 

 

“You have a good heart Martha.” He replied and she crossed her arms. 

 

“Don't bullshit me. You weren't even listening were you?” He kissed her forehead.

 

“Peace my dear. Just watch the ball drop and kiss this crummy year goodbye.” She nodded, making sure he noticed her rolling her eyes, and his phone began to buzz in his pocket.

 

**FIVE**

 

“ _ Merde, _ get out of the fucking way hamhock!” Herc had to grip Laf’s thighs to keep him from lunging at the incredibly tall man who had blocked their view. Herc smiled at the man apologetically, who moved leftwards, mumbling in German. “Foreigners, am I right?” Laf joked, looking down at Alex, who just chuckled, shivering.

 

“Aww,” Laf went on, having to practically scream so they could hear him. “My poor little Caribbean boy still isn't used to the cold.”

 

“The Caribbean?” Eliza blinked and Thomas nudged him a little too roughly.

 

“Ham here is exotic.” Alex sighed, choosing not to bother pointing out how offense that terminology was and tell Thomas  _ not _ to call him Ham. It would probably lead to Thomas calling him Ham in front of the entire debate club.

 

“It is too early to be kissing!” Laf screeched at a couple on the distance locking lips, reminding Alex of a gargoyle. A tall, french gargoyle. Laf suddenly seemed to realized something, tapping Herc on the head. “Wait let me down. I need to be at smooch level with the world.”

 

Alex pulled out his phone as Herc lifted Laf down, fighting the urge to check John’s snapchat. He'd rather not know if he was back in the city, it might make it more painful.  _ God, what I wouldn't give to be smoking a bowl with him alone in my dorm instead of here. _

 

He was grateful for Eliza’s hand in his, grounding him.

 

**FOUR**

 

“Nathan wants to FaceTime.” He grinned, his face mirrored in the phone screen betraying to himself how giddy he looked. He glanced at Martha, as if asking permission. “But you and I are together. So I can just-”

 

“Answer it.” She rolled her eyes but she was smiling, sitting up. “I can leave.”

 

“No, stay.” He impulsively grabbed her arm, pulling her to him again so she was visible in the camera, and slid his thumb to answer. 

 

**THREE**

 

_ I should call John. See if he’s in the city. Maybe he dumped Nate. Maybe he's looking for me right now. Maybe- _

 

“Almost the New Year!” Lafayette slung an arm aggressively around Alex and Eliza’s necks, clanking their heads together. “Back home, a six day party would begin immediately after midnight to celebrate.”

 

“Is that a French thing?” Eliza asked sweetly and Laf cackled.

 

“It is a Lafayette thing. I'm persuading Thomas to my cause, since he is the only one with a house.”

 

“I'm rich Laf but I don't have the money for a six day fucking party.” Thomas shouted, close enough to just catch the fringes of their conversation. Alex laughed.

 

“You've asked him so many times he probably has been conditioned to hate New Year's now.” Laf pouted then his eyes fell to Alex’s phone in his hand, thumb hovering over John’s contact.

 

“Alex,” Laf breathed in his ear, words for Alex alone. “Let it go. It is the New Year. That is why we left France. To let go.”

 

“I thought we left France so you could face your fears.” Alex replied cheekily and Laf snatched his phone from his hands, holding it high.

 

“You'll get this back when the nostalgia clears. Remember Christmas?”

 

**TWO**

 

“Hey babe.” John said with a grin, feeling completely at ease with the revelation that he had nothing to hide, not from anybody. He could FaceTime his boyfriend in front of his sister. Hell, he could even do it in front of his dad.  _ This boy chose me and I chose him and I am not ashamed of him or any aspect of myself.  _ “This is my sister, Martha.”

 

“Hi Nathan!” Her voice had shifted up and octave, a tone she reserved for phone calls and their pastor. John watched Nathan laugh and wave back, glancing at John with soft understanding. John didn't talk often about his family, he and Alex had always had that in common, so he knew Nathan would appreciate him allowing Martha here.

 

“Hey Martha! Good to meet you. And it's good to see your face again John. I wanted it to be the last thing I saw in 2016.” John’s face heated up and the moment was only slightly ruined by Martha’s squeal, both boys chuckling at her.

 

“You cornball.” John laughed but he was smiling. “You aren't at Times Square?”

 

“Nah I'm just watching the minutes tick by on my wall clock. I'm not one for parties.”

 

“Do you have a New Year's resolution?” Martha chipped in and Nathan crinkled his eyebrows thoughtfully.

 

“I guess maybe not to fail physics when I retake it this semester. What about you?”

 

“I got him.” Martha held up her kitten and John snorted.

 

“A cat isn't a resolution. A resolution is something you work towards.” She stuck out her tongue at him, amusing Nathan tremendously.

 

“What's yours John?” He asked and John closed his eyes briefly.

 

“I think….it’s to start the year with a clean state.”  _ To feel free. _ Both nodded, as if they understood, but John knew they couldn't. Only he understood this. 

 

_ This year I won’t let any demons haunt me. I will be my own person. John Laurens, unashamed. _

 

**ONE**

 

“Happy New Year!” It felt like all of New York City had screamed it at once and Alex felt giddy to be a part of it, laughing as he looked upwards and thick clouds of confetti tickled his face.

 

He turned to Eliza, licking his lips shyly, before Lafayette grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him with puckered lips, like a sloppy exchange between fourth graders.

 

“Mwahh!!” Laf snickered as he pulled away, Alex wiping his lips, before he repeated the motion will all of the group, having to practically pry apart Thomas and Angelica to kiss them both.

 

“The French sicken me.” Alex said, prompting a scoff from Laf.

 

“When will you get it through your thick little skull that my idiosyncrasies are mine and mine alone, not a reflection of France.” Laf rolled his eyes, smirking. “Puerto Ricans, am I right?” 

 

Alex gave him a look that said clearly  _ I could just fucking murder you sometimes  _ before looking back at Eliza, pulling the confetti out of her hair with a secret little smile, and he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

 

“Happy New Year's.” He whispered to her and she kissed his nose in return.

 

“Happy New Year's Alexander.”

 

“Here.” Laf handed him his phone back, the crowd around them beginning already to dissolve, the camaraderie in the air shifting towards annoyance as all suddenly wanted to be home in bed. “You've earned this back, you didn't even try to kiss anyone, proud of you.” Alex almost flinched. 

 

_ He's right, look at you. You're so caught up in your emotions lately that you nearly kissed Eliza and broke her heart all over again. _

 

He shook his head to clear it, looking at his phone and debating whether or not to text John.

 

Alex shut his phone off, linking arms with Laf and Eliza and the group migrated towards a cafe, too young and full of life to trade in laughter for dreams just yet.  _ It’s a new year Alex. Listen to Laf, it’s time to let go. _

 

* * *

 

“Happy New Year!” Martha exclaimed in unison with the television and the others, although much louder, just as fireworks boomed from outside John’s window.

 

“C'mon.” He said, impulsively, and raced down the stairs with her close behind, stepping out into the dark night with bare feet, the grass like icicles curling around his toes. “Look.”

 

John, one hand holding Martha’s and the other holding up his phone, flipped the screen around so that Nathan could see the brilliant array of fireworks lighting up the sky.

 

John knew it was all subjective, that the new year wouldn't really being change unless he brought it himself, yet he still felt a wave of possibility wash over him, fresh with hope. This year would be what he made it. He wasn't hiding anything, he wasn't afraid, and he wasn't in love with anyone.

 

John let the thunderous roar of the sky fill his senses as he closed his eyes and tilted his head upwards, face to the heavens. Untethered.  
  


 

* * *

 

 

“So, you have the option to graduate this semester, if you choose.” Alex was sitting across from his counselor, a woman in the political science department, and was thrown off by how young she was. He was always thrown off by how young they were.  _ Are you really old enough to know what I should do with my life? I’m sure as fuck not. _ “You would have to load up on several more classes, if you chose, but given your workload history that shouldn't be an issue.”

 

“And what if,” Alex took a deep breath, hands wringing his jeans. “I wanted to stay?” The lady, maybe Laf’s age, blinked at him before tapping back into her computer.

 

“Oh many students want to stay the full four years, it's a beautiful campus and nobody wants to rush into the real adult world.” She laughed, a chittering sound that Alex felt obligated to join in on, before looking at him again. “If you did want to stay, it would be significantly easier on your workload. You could fit in some extra curriculars and be only taking 12 units a semester.”  _ Like a regular student.  _ It was implied and Alex bit his lip, pretending to weigh his options, like he hadn't made up his mind.

 

Lafayette had decided to graduate early this Spring, but that was different. Laf was 23, ready to start life and with the money to do it. Alex, for all his smarts and work ethic, knew he was still a kid. If anything, this semester had only reaffirmed it. He was a mess, and he needed more time.  _ There's never enough time. _

 

Besides, if he graduated now, leaving things as they are, he might never see John again. The boy he loved might fade to a passing memory, a nostalgic little blip on his college glory days montage. A whole year to stay left him plenty of time to paint John back into the picture, to secure him as Alex’s walking buddy when they donned their light blue robes. 

 

Alex didn't want to tell himself that he was staying for the boy, it was definitely a strong factor, but he  _ had _ to believe it was to spend more time building up his resume, filling his head with knowledge that he would forever store away. He was Alexander Hamilton. He was a fighter, not a lover.

 

“I think I'd like to graduate next Spring.” He nodded with resolution. “I need more time.” A statement true on just about every level.

 

“Okay.” She tapped into the keyboard again. “Shouldn't be a problem. I'll just-”

 

“So we’re done here then?” He stood up, the discussion of time and schedules and future plans making him dizzy. She blinked in surprise and nodded, opening her mouth to reply, but he was already half out the door. “Thank you very much!”

 

“How’d it go?” Eliza was waiting for him in the hallway, hair swept back behind her gracefully, eyes a still body of water in the face of his turbulent mind.

 

“I'm gonna stay another year.” He smiled, linking their arms as they stepped outside, a rare patch of sunlight warming his face. “So we’ll graduate at the same time now. But not with Laf.” She bumped his shoulder.

 

“It's not like you won't see him anymore. Aren't you guys getting an apartment together anyway?”

 

_ Laf’s the one getting the apartment _ , he thought with guilt tinged bitterness.  _ I'll be the one living off his charity, as always. _

 

“Once I get a job.” He set his jaw, this new goal crisp and clear before him.  _ Finish school. Get a job. Pay your bills. Write write write. Keep in touch with friends.  _ It was all just a checklist now. He had to drive headfirst back into work, he had spent too much time off track, out of focus.  _ Fucking around with John. _

 

Alex had been filling, perhaps unintentionally, the John shaped hole in his life with one Eliza Schuyler lately. She did not fit the mold exactly, but she blended and slipping right into his life so easily that he wondered if maybe he hadn't had an additional Eliza shaped gap to begin with. Since Times Square and the start of the new semester, they had formed a tenuous new group. Alex had gotten close with Eliza, who Herc and Laf just adored, and so she and Angelica had been joining them lately in their drunken debacles and movie nights. Thomas usually was dragged along and Alex always feigned indignation, but the little rich boy was always willing to buy the alcohol and pizza, so Alex could tolerate his idiocy.  _ Wow, I guess money can really buy friends. _

 

None of them were or could ever be John, but Alex ached a little less each day. It had only been a couple days of school, winter break winding down, but back on the concrete campus he missed his friend more than ever. 

 

He said as much out loud and Eliza blinked at him sympathetically. 

 

“You must miss him so much.” She sighed. “I kinda feel the same about my roommate. We haven't spoken in so long...over something so dumb.”

 

“I guess John has a pretty solid reason for not talking to me.” He shrugged. “At this point, I don't even need him to date me. I just want him back as my friend so bad.” Eliza nodded. 

 

One night before school had started back up he’d gone over to the Schuyler’s. He’d imagined a nerve racking dinner with the stern father and twelve siblings Angelica had described, but instead he had hung out with Eliza in her room, sipping rose wine and watching nature documentaries. Alexander got wine drunk very easily and very quickly, and he’d told her everything. Starting with the very kiss that had ended their relationship. Alex thought that Eliza must be some kind of fucking angel for not feeling bitterness towards him, she was only a bottomless well of empathy.

 

“The way I see it,” She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “His relationship with Nathanael could go two ways.”

 

“He who shall not be named.” Alex mumbled under his breath. She ignored him.

 

“One; they stay together for a while, fall in love, get comfortable with each other.” Her every word was like a dull knife against his skin, rusted and raw and painful yet not quite as sharp as anticipated. “Nathanael trusts him more, let's John be your friend again.”

 

“What's option two?” He grumbled.

 

“Option two; they break up. If it isn't for a while, maybe you'll get John back as a friend, maybe you won't. But I don't think this is the option to root for, since it would just mean he's treating you as the next best thing.”  _ I've done that to him for years, I deserve it.  _

 

“Do you think..” Alex swallowed and they stopped, outside the classroom door. “Do you think we’ll end up together?”

 

“No.” She said honestly, patting his arm. “I think you've both hurt each other too much. But I do think you'll be friends again. I  _ know _ you will.” She kissed his cheek, Alex trying to smile as if her words hadn't crushed him. “Have fun in debate. Tell Angie I love her.”

 

“It's impossible to have fun with how Friedrich drones on.” He grumbled and she laughed as she walked away, Alex watching her for a long moment, debating whether or not he would take her words to heart or disregard them completely. He had a nasty habit of wiping his memory of any advice he didn't think he needed. 

 

He took a breath before stepping into the classroom, wanting his head clear for debate, as it was now the only club he was a member of.  _ Can't risk seeing John.  _

 

Alex hesitated a moment as the door closed behind him, an older boy he didn't recognize standing at the front, but he shrugged and took his usual seat in front of Angelica, Thomas beside her, wearing an expression of one who had smelled something sour. 

 

After a couple of minutes and with a glance at the clock, the boy cleared his throat. He had blonde hair and small, squinty eyes. 

 

“Hello everyone. For those that don't know me, I'm John Adams.”  _ Of course a boy named John is here. Where the fuck is Fred? _ “My cousin, Friedrich, has had to suddenly leave the state and will be continuing school in his hometown in Connecticut. His mother, my aunt, broke her legs and requested that he come take care of her.” The room immediately began murmuring anxiously, Alex turning to raise an eyebrow at Thomas. But the boy only shrugged with a frown, clearly as surprised as the rest. “He won't be coming back, and he asked me to take over this little club for him.”

 

“Ah, well,” Thomas stood up, smile brimming with mock politeness and poison. “Thomas Jefferson. Hi. It's kind of you to help your cousin out,  _ John _ , but as reigning vice president, I would actually be the one to take over, in Fred’s absence.”

 

“Fred isn't just absent.” Adam’s scoffed, eyeing Jefferson as one would a disgusting stain on an otherwise clean restaurant table. “My cousin is gone from this school. Permanently. So he appointed me the president. And only the current president has the power to choose a new one. So.” He shrugged with false sympathy and Alex almost pitied Thomas, the entire room visibly witnessing what he’d worked so hard for slipping away.  _ Fred was graduating next year, Thomas would've been president for sure. He would’ve actually done something with this waste of a club. Damn, of course Jefferson getting fucked over somehow ends in me getting fucked over. I can’t just savor his defeat. _

 

“And on the subject of vice presidents” Adams waved his hand at Jefferson dismissively and the man slowly, fists clenched in shock and rage, took a seat. “I've chosen mine for this new semester. A mister Aaron Burr.”

 

“ _ What? _ ” Alex and Thomas snapped in perfect unison. Burr turned around and gave Alex a little half grin that he wanted to punch off of him. 

 

“Over the break, Aaron took the initiative and found me once he heard the news about Fred.” Adams raised his eyebrows as if to say ‘what are you gonna do?’. Alex turned to Thomas, hoping to catch the eye of one who must match his rage, but Thomas looked distant, as if he had glimpsed into his future and seen a horrible vision.  _ I know I have. _

 

Alex knew it wasn't the end of the world, not his world anyway. Adams was clearly a douche but he seemed more proactive than Fred. And Aaron’s sole purpose seemed to be running Alex the wrong way, but he was a strong debator.  _ No, _ Alex thought as the man chattered away about new protocols and the like.  _ I'll be fine. I wasn't the one who was wronged. _

 

Alex would later claim, as he rose from his seat, that he simply loved confrontation. That he couldn't scratch the itch of a potential fight. But he knew Thomas Jefferson was too passive aggressive to actively do anything as he was usurped. So, on behalf of his reluctantly made friend’s honor, he cleared his throat.

 

“I'm sorry, but do you really think you can just waltz into a club you know nothing about and take over?” For the first time since he opened his mouth, Adams looked mildly alarmed.

 

“What?” He stammered, caught off guard, and Burr coughed readily.

 

“Alexander,” Burr crooned and  _ jesus christ  _ did Alex hate the way that man always used his full name. “It's protocol. There are rules and-”

 

“Fuck protocol.” Alex said, blood pumping and beginning to feel like a bit of a badass from the way the other students gawked at him. “Everyone knows Thomas is next to take over. He’s been with this club for  _ three _ years. He knows all of us, what we’re capable of. You're just some….some stranger.”

 

“A stranger that Fred, my  _ cousin _ , decided could handle you all.” Adams sneered and Alex scoffed.

 

“Your  _ cousin _ ,” He mocked. “Could barely run this club himself, let alone tell his own foot from his ass. Thomas should be-”

 

“Thomas,” Adams interrupted with a booming voice. “Doesn't seem to be making half the fuss you are.” He raised an eyebrow at the boy half sinking behind his desk. “Do you always need someone to fight your battles for you, Mr. Jefferson, wasn't it? He your boyfriend or something?” He said to Alex before the only voice that had ever terrified the short boy sounded from behind him.

 

“No, he would be mine.” Angelica arched an eyebrow, not having to rise from her seat to command the attention of the room. “And trust me Mr. Adams,  _ wasn't it _ ? You don't want an enemy of him.”

 

“Ah, Thomas.” Adams cleared his throat, wisely averting his eyes as Angelica stared him down. “You seem to have this club’s respect. Perhaps I could offer you a position of co-vice presidency? I could use your...advice.”

 

“I suppose.” Thomas said in a somewhat defeated voice. Alex’s fists clenched.

 

“Now that that's settled.” Adams returned his gaze to Alex. “I won't tolerate any bullshit in this club. I want this to become something respectable. So i'm going to have to ask you to leave.” Alex blinked.

 

“I'm sorry...what?!”

 

“I believe he said get out.” Burr said smugly. Alex made a lunging motion at him and couldn't resist a smirk at his flinch.

 

Alex waited a moment, for someone to protest, to rise out of their seat as he had done for Thomas, but the room was silent. He threw his friends a glance, Angelica’s face a mask and Thomas refusing to meet his gaze.  _ Alright then.  _

 

“Fine.” Alex shrugged, humiliated.  _ Not like this was my last club anyway. _ “I'll be going then.” He grabbed his backpack and jumped at the sudden sound of Thomas’ chair scraping.

 

“If he goes, I go.” He said much too loudly and Adams threw up his hands in exasperation.

 

“Go then. Jesus Christ.” Thomas paused.

 

“Wait, really? Yeah. Yeah okay. Okay!” He grabbed his bag with a flourish and swung the other arm around Alex’s shoulders, half dragging him out. “We  _ made _ this goddamn club! Good fucking luck without us!”

 

The door slammed shut behind them and Alex looked at Thomas for a moment, complete and utter shock coursing through him, before bursting into laughter.

 

“Oh my god. Oh my god we just did that.” Alex breathed, clutching his sides. Thomas panted for a moment, looking surprised at himself, before looking down at Alex and letting out a little giggle.

 

“You're the reckless one. Not me. Oh my god.” Thomas ran a hand through his curls. “We should go back inside. That did not just happen. Oh god.”

 

“No. No hey.” Alex grabbed his shoulders. “That was fucking awesome. You were a fucking badass. And so was I.”

 

“You two are fucking drama queens that's what you are.” Angelica closed the door more softly behind her and Thomas laughed, giddy, and kissed her. She smiled at him with fondness, despite the slight frown at her lips.

 

“You left too?” Alex tilted his head and she shrugged, looking a little bashful.

 

“I didn't make such an idiotic scene of it but of course I left. Without you two idiots what's the point?” Thomas slapped a hand over his heart.

 

“Babe that was so romantic.” She smacked him and Alex almost choked from laughing.

 

“What an adrenaline rush.”

 

“You actively do drugs and  _ that _ gets you all hot and bothered.” Angelica shoved Alex playfully. 

 

“Weed isn't doing drugs.” Alex protested, all grinning at this point.

 

“Hey.” Thomas looked down at Alex, smile still in place but eyes suddenly serious. “Thanks for doing that. I mean. You didn't have to….I mean just. Thanks.”

 

“Thanks for coming out after me.” Alex said barely above a whisper. They smiled for a moment before Angelica linked arms with both and started walking. 

 

“If you two are done eye fucking let's get some celebratory coffee. Yeah?”

 

Alex felt warm walking between them, which was strange considering he had never particularly liked Thomas. But the loneliness he had felt standing alone in that room, Adams kicking him out, compared to the exhilaration of being followed out was a stark and thrilling contrast.

 

_ I may not have John. But I have friends. _

 

“Don't think,” Thomas’ voice raised an octave. “For one second though that this means I like you or anything.” Angelica snorted. 

 

“You sound like a girl in a harem manga. Don't fight it, plenty of people hate their friends. I hate you, for instance.”

 

“We aren't friends Angelica we’re  _ dating _ .”

 

_ I have friends.  _ Alex watched with amusement at the way they flirted through scoffs and little laughs.  _ I'm not alone. _  
  


* * *

 

 

John had had sex before in his life. Granted, it was with a girl, lasted about twenty seconds, had ended in him crying, and had been prom night in high school, but he’d had sex, regardless.

 

At least, that's what he had always consoled himself with when he’d had to listen to Alex and Laf chatter on endlessly, in far too much detail, about their sexual adventures. John liked to tell himself that it was nothing, that he wasn't as inexperienced as they made him out to be. Dating Nathan had taught him just how wrong he was.

 

Nathan’s hands were currently up his shirt and rubbing slowly down his back, the boy’s lips pressing repeatedly against his collarbone as they lay together tangled up in his sheets. They had made out plenty of times, John citing his inexperience as an excuse to not take it any further, his mind a mixture of fear and shame. Another man’s body was uncharted territory, as was another man’s hands on his body. John knew by the standards by which Laf and Alex moved, he and Nathan were moving agonizingly slow. But he couldn't help but second guess himself any time he thought he might be ready.  _ What if I'm no good at It? What if he doesn't like me? _

 

But the intent in Nathan’s lips and hands were different this time. He hadn't seen John since before winter break, and it was transparent that he had missed the boy in every sense of the word.

 

“Wait.” John breathed after a moment as Nathan’s hands inched lower, a word familiar to both of them, and the boy pulled away with a sigh only slightly laced with frustration. “I'm sorry.” John whispered after a moment, both boys laying facing the ceiling, breathing heavily, and Nathan turned to him, studying his face.

 

“Don't be.” His finger traced the curve of John’s jaw, the boy smiling shyly under his smouldering gaze, and Nathan licked his lips as if nervous. John’s eyes returned to the ceiling, trying to think unappetizing thoughts to cool his body off, when Nathan spoke again. “I love you, you know.”

 

John felt his body go stiff and he suddenly couldn't pull his eyes away from the ceiling, the various bumps and cracks growing immensely interesting. The silence was deafening but when John opened his mouth, no sound came out.

 

“Thank you.” He croaked after much too long of a moment, and he cringed immediately.  _ Thank you? You refuse to let him get past second base and then say  _ **_thank you_ ** _ when he says he loves you?!  _ He felt Nathan sit up, still unable to look over.

 

“Um, wow. Okay.” Nathan sounded sheepish, hurt. John squeezed his eyes shut right before forcing himself to turn and face the boy, guilt flooding his veins.  _ Why did I say thank you? What a douche move. I do love him...don't I? _

 

“Nathan I-”

 

“It's okay.” Nathan smiled at him weakly, the flicker in his eyes betraying his woundedness. “You're under no obligation to say it back, not if you don't yet. I just wanted you to know how I feel. And….know I would never hurt you. That I would be gentle.”  _ Oh. _ So it was about more than just love then. Nathan had been nothing but patient with him, but John knew he was still a hormonal boy, one who hadn't gotten laid in months. 

 

“I'm just not….ready.” It felt lame to say, like the excuse of a teenage girl in a nineties coming of age movie, but John wasn't trying to bullshit his boyfriend.  _ I can't. I just can't. Not yet. Not like this.  _

 

Then an awful thought occurred to John. An awful, intrusive thought that would take him far too long to differentiate between truth and a cruel subconscious.

 

_ Not with you. _

 

As if reading his mind, Nathan raised his eyebrows, conflict etched in his face.

 

“John.” A single syllable. Heavy with promise that the conversation following it would not be easy. John hadn't even realized his own name could make his stomach churn so much. “I'm not one to pressure people. And I understand that you want to take things slow….but I don't think it's for the right reasons.” John immediately felt defensive, sitting up to face his much taller boyfriend. 

 

“Oh don't you?” He said curtly, and Nathan looked at him sadly.

 

“You only let yourself go so far. Not just sexually...emotionally.” Nathan ran a hand through his hair and John’s annoyance dissolved and the guilt returned. “I can't help but think that it's not that we’re moving too fast….but that it's  _ me _ you're holding back from.” It was too close to the truth, too close to what John’s unwelcome thoughts had been whispering to him lately.

 

“Just give me time.” John said quickly, suddenly sensing this conversation taking a dangerous turn. He placed his hand on in Nathan’s arm, touch begging the boy to look at him. “I...I'm slow to love but I care about you so much Nathan. I could love you. Just be patient with me.”

 

“It's hard not to….take it personally.” Nathan closed his eyes and John felt his heart pounding.  _ No.  _ It was a new year, he was finally happy. He and Nathan weren't supposed to fight. John just wanted the boy to hold him and for this conversation to end.

 

“I'm sorry.” John said, not knowing what else there was to say. Wishing he had the eloquence of Alexander. “It's not anything you've done or haven't done. I just...need time to fall in love.”

 

“Really?” Nathan’s tone took on a sharp coating, tinged with bitterness. “Didn't you fall in love with Alex like, the day you met him?”

 

“That's not fair.”

 

“No,” Nathan pulled his arm away, looking at him. “What's not fair is that I have to live in the shadow of someone you never even dated. Can you honestly tell me that if it were  _ him _ here right now, instead of me, you would stop him? That you wouldn't say ‘I love you’ back?”

 

John hesitated, and that was enough. 

 

Nathan sighed with sinking finality, standing up.

 

“This is on me.” He mumbled. “I shouldn't have gone after someone who's in love with someone else. That's just asking for hurt.”

 

“But I'm not in love with Alex.” John said softly, then cleared his throat, letting his voice grow more confident. “I don't love him.”  _ I want to love you, Nathan. God, how I wish I loved you. _

 

“Are you sure?” Nathan asked and John couldn't hear anything save the pounding of his own heart.

 

“Don't break up with me.” John managed after a long silence. “I'm crazy about you. I have gave up my  _ best friend _ for you.”

 

“Don't use those eyes on me.” Nathan said with a sad smile. John stood up and cautiously took his hands, relieved when Nate didn't pull away.”Look, you never really had time to get over Alex. And maybe me forcing you to cut him off wasn't the best way of doing that. I just…” Nathan took a long breath. “I just wanted you to myself so bad, I ignored all the red flags. I think you are still in love with him, John.” John felt his face growing hot. He was sad and scared at the direction this might was taking, but he did  _ not _ like being told how he felt.

 

“Nathanael, I'm not.” He pulled away in annoyance. “Don't project your insecurities onto me. I think it's pretty shitty to break up with someone for not loving you quickly enough and then trying to guilt them for it.”

 

“Jesus John.” Nathan ran his hand through his hair. “You know this is more than that. Maybe it's my fault. You never had time to get over Alex, and I moved us too fast. Maybe you just need more time to be alone.”

 

“What are you saying?” John said hollowly. Nathan crossed the room to him and kissed him, but John knew the taste of it. This was a goodbye kiss, a final seal on words John didn't want to recognize. “So we’re over?” He blinked back tears, watched Nathan do the same. “Just like that?”

 

“I just want you to just figure out your feelings for Alex. Figure out what's holding you back.”

 

“I  _ swear _ I don't love him anymore.” John said desperately, the battle clearly already over. Nathan’s gaze was almost piteous now and John had to look away.  _ Why am I the pathetic one here? I'm not the one who said I love you. How did this go from hot and heavy to me getting dumped? _

 

“Look maybe in the future-” 

 

But John had heard enough. He grabbed his jacket and practically ran out of the room, not pausing until he was outside, hands on his knees, panting and crying. He waited a moment, half expecting Nathan to run out after him. But he was greeted only by the silence of the desolate campus and the occasional chirp of some bug.

 

_ Real mature John. Just run away from a breakup. _

 

John took a long breath, filling his eye well up again, and shook his head to clear it. 

 

_ What's wrong with you John? What's wrong with me? What is wrong with me? _

 

_ I won't lose the only person left who loves me. Nathan is wrong about this, and I won't lose him. I won't. _

 

He started walking.

 

* * *

 

 

Eliza had been avoiding Maria since the day that they moved back in. It had been easy, considering the girl hadn't made an effort to try and talk to her. Maria seemed to be respecting Eliza’s cold shoulder. Or maybe she was afraid of the girl.

 

_ Maria isn't afraid of anything, dummy. If anything you probably just burned that bridge. She doesn't care about you anymore. _

 

“Hey um.” Eliza pulled her headphones out of her ears, Maria slipping into a dress for some party.  _ Or maybe a date. You don't know her life anymore. _ “What are...what are you doing tonight?”

 

Beyond simple ‘Leave the door unlocked’ and ‘thank you’s, it was the most words they had said to each other all week. Maria blinked at her.

 

“Why?” The syllable jolted Eliza, who attempted to smile nonchalantly. 

 

“I thought maybe….we could go eat. Together.”

 

Eliza watched Maria, trying to gauge her steady gaze when she turned to face her.

 

It could go two ways, at this point. One; Maria presses her. 

 

“Oh,” She would say. “So suddenly you're talking to me again?” She would brush Eliza off coldly. Remind her of their fight, of how Eliza had so quickly snapped at her.

 

_ It was wrong, what she did. But she was trying to help. In her fucked up, Maria way she was actually just trying to help you. _

 

Eliza had grown closer to Alexander recently. And while she loved him as a person, she understood that he was absolute shit at relationships. And she had been the price of his last one.  _ I was so blind.  _ He was a wonderful friend and person, she truly believed in that. And while he might make a great boyfriend to someone else, someone with steel for bones so he could not melt them, he would not suit her.

 

And Maria had known it.

 

The second way it could go would be Maria forgiving her and just putting it behind them. But Maria Reynolds was not known for her benevolence.

 

_ Please just let us move on. Please don't press it. _

 

“I could eat.” Maria said after an unbearably long silence, voice a forgotten comfort. 

 

_ Thank you _ . Eliza smiled at her, wanting to cry but not wanting to shatter the moment.

 

_ The way you used to look at Alexander is the way she is looking at you now. _

 

Eliza shook the unwelcome thought away, grateful just to have her friend back. Grateful that they had both forgiven each other. 

 

“I was thinking sushi?” 

 

“Eliza.” She closed her eyes at Maria’s tone.  _ This couldn't just be easy, could it?  _

 

_ No, you didn't want easy. You wanted to pretend it had never happened. _

 

“I'm cool with just moving on,” Maria said with uncharacteristic softness. “But in the interest of being honest I have to tell you that I kinda have a weakness for you.” Eliza felt like the world was swirling.  _ What does that mean?  _

“Oh.”

 

“So I’ll probably always piss you off trying to do what’s best for you. I want to see you happy.

I guess I'm just trying to uh….to apologize.” Maria flashed her a quick little smile. “I interfere because….I love you.” Eliza chose to ignore the way she spoke the words, voice thick.

 

“I love you too. You're one of my best friends.” Eliza rushed to hug her, the girl hesitating before wrapping her arms around her waist. “I'm sorry we fought. I missed you.” She listed to Maria’s pounding heart and jagged breaths, closing her eyes.

 

“Lets uh…” The girl pulled away. “Get that sushi, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

  
  
Alex practically threw the door to his room open, it swinging shut on it's hinges behind him as he threw his bag down. Everything he did was with gusto, and after such a strange day, he just wanted to throw himself onto the bed and sleep. He looked up, yawning slightly, and then stopped cold.

 

Sitting on Lafayette’s bed, with red rimmed eyes and slightly labored breathing sat the boy he hadn't seen or heard from since October. 

 

John Laurens.

 

The metaphor that sprang to his mind for the exact emotion he felt was that of a train skidding off the tracks, abrupt and loud and an all encompassing dread. 

 

But even in the midst of how painful the portrait in front of him was, he couldn't help the rapture tugging at his sleeve.  _ He's so handsome. So close.  _

 

“You cut your hair.” John said in that soft voice he used when he’d been crying, a forgotten song, and Alex unconsciously took a step forward.

 

_ Why didn't you text me back on Christmas? _ Was the intrusive thought that sprung into his head. But instead he looked away, fighting the urge to force John to tell him what was wrong, to kiss the tear tracks on his cheeks away.

 

“Lafayette isn't here.” Alex said after a little too long. “He uh, he's not coming back until later tonight. I don't think.”  _ So you can leave. Slip out the door and out of my life again. _

 

“I know.” He met John’s eyes, the boy’s gaze fixated on Alex. “I'm here for you.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excusez-nous! Un français très attractif et ses collèges beaucoup moins séduisants essayent de passer= excuse us! Very attractive french man and his significantly less attractive colleagues coming through!
> 
> shoutout to my french homie @GrdMa for the translation
> 
> please come talk to me [on my tumblr](http://angstypanfeminist.tumblr.com/) i am a lonely starving artist


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> surprise! this is me trying to update a little more frequently with shorter chapters but mostly bc I feel guilty at ending on a cliffhanger. So, enjoy!! Your comments cure me

 

_ I'm here for you  _

 

“What?” Alex had felt practically aflame when he’d walked out of debate club, powerful and compelling. Now he felt as helpless and dumb as a lost child, completely tongue tied.

 

John took a shaky breath, hands clenching the bed sheets as if to steady himself, and looked up at Alex.

 

“Nathanael ah….he dumped me.”

 

“What the fuck?” 

 

The tension dissolved instantly as Alex moved to sit beside John, suddenly feeling as if no time has passed at all. Without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around the boy, who sunk into his shoulder, softly crying. He fit in the crook of Alex's arm perfectly, he noted, like an old and comfortable sweater and just as familiar.

 

“What happened?” Alex asked softly after minutes of soothing sounds and rubbing John’s back had calmed the curly haired boy somewhat. 

 

John sat up slowly, Alex immediately missing the feeling of the boy pressed against him, and let out a little laugh.

 

“Long story short...he told me he loves me and I didn't say it back.”

 

_ He didn't say it back! He didn't say it back! _ A thousand voices chanted at Alex and he ignored them.

 

_ Nows your chance to put your money where your mouth is and see if you've really changed. Be selfless for John. This is about him not you. _

 

“That's a shitty reason to dump someone.” Alex said and John snorted. “Do you though? Love him?” Alex didn’t want to know, he really didn’t. If the answer was yes, Alex couldn’t trust himself to remain impartial. It might just break him. And if the answer was no….Alexander might just confess his undying love right then and there.

 

“I don't know.” The rawness in John’s voice nearly shattered Alex’s heart and hopes alike.  _ I've been there. _ “That's why I'm here actually.” 

 

His words drew Alex out of his brain and back into the present, and he eyed his friend quizzically.

 

“What do you mean?” He asked as John spoke over him, the boy rushing his words out quickly as if that might make Alex less likely to absorb them.

 

“I want you to kiss me.”

 

It was, ironically, the very thing Alex had been dying to hear. Only the context was off, like some cruel cosmic joke.

 

“What?” Alex said softly, mouth dry. The air in the room felt thicker, suddenly. Like the oxygen had morphed into fabric, constricting and impossible to breathe. John shook his head.

 

“Look, I know it sounds crazy. It probably is crazy. But I need to prove to Nate...and to myself that I don't have any unresolved feelings for you.” Alex blinked, standing up.  _ This isn’t happening.  _

 

“And there's no way to do that unless I  _ kiss _ you?” He scoffed. “No. John I'm not gonna-”

 

“Alexander, please.” John grabbed his arm but Alex tugged it away, afraid John might feel just by touching him how overwhelming his feelings were, how close they were to the surface. “We’ve kissed before. It-”

 

“And that kiss ruined everything!” Alex screeched, although he knew his voice was much weaker than he imagined it to be. He turned to John as he spoke, stunning him into silence. “It cost me  _ you _ , John.”  _ It cost me the only thing that ever mattered. Don't ask me to do this. _ “This plan of yours...it makes no real sense.”

 

“I know.” John practically whimpered, eyes welling up again, and Alex’s body sat back down beside John against his will.

 

“You don't know what you ask of me.” Alex said thickly, and John looked at him.

 

“Please Alex. I'm begging you. You….you know me better than anyone. You know I'm serious if I say I need this. But I won't ask again after this. So...please?”

 

And  _ god _ , did Alex want to say no. This, he was convinced, was the most torturous moment of his life. He bit his lip, trying to force his mouth to shape just one syllable.  _ No. Just say no. _

 

But John was looking at him with tear filled eyes and  _ oh _ , there it was. The look of complete and utter need. His poison, his downfall. If Alex was the protagonist of a greek tragedy, that single look would be his demise. And, in the face of such a look, Alex couldn't resist letting his hopes flare up and his imagination make a fool out of him. 

 

_ Maybe...maybe this isn't cruel. Maybe this isn't a test from the universe, maybe it's a chance. He's kissing me to see if he loves me, right? So if I kiss him hard enough, if I make him  _ **_feel_ ** _ it, maybe it will be enough. I can make him certain he loves me.  _

 

_ Our last kiss was an ending. This could be a beginning. _

 

“Okay.” He said softly and John let out a breath, smiling tentatively. 

 

“Really?” Alex nodded and John squeezed his hand, looking at him with far too much sincerity. “Thank you Alex. I know it's been a while but I really-”

 

“John.” Alex stared down at their hands, interlocked, and swallowed the tremble building up inside of him. “Just kiss me.”  _ Before I lose my nerve. _

 

“Okay.”

 

Alex felt John’s hand on his cheek, awkward but confident, and it lifted his face to meet the other boy’s eyes for just a moment before John pressed their lips together.

 

Their last kiss Alex had been drunk, and he hadn't realized just how unfair that was until now. John was warm and  _ here _ and felt and tasted like home. Half from instinct and half from his darker purpose of trying to steal John’s heart, Alex tugging him closer sharply by his shirt collar, satisfied by the boy’s gasp. He used the opportunity to slide his tongue into John’s mouth, trying desperately to convey the intensity he felt for him. Trying to make him feel how empty Alex had been without him. Trying to make him stay.

 

John’s palm, flat against his chest, pushed him away too unexpectedly soon, and Alex’s mouth chased his for a heartbeat, wanting their closeness to never end, only to grow.

 

Alex only realized he was crying when the tears touched his lips, salty and warm and not really that unexpected.  _ That was agony. Beautiful agony _ .

 

John was smiling, hand still on Alex’s chest, looking almost blissful. Gone was his miserable demeanor, replaced instead by a calm contrast to how Alex was now shaking.

 

“Thank you.” John breathed and opened his eyes, looking directly into Alex’s. “I was right. I don't love you anymore.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I think I'm moving out of New York. After graduation, I mean.” Lafayette blinked in surprise at the information, throat tightening immediately as he looked up at his best friend.

 

“What the fuck?” He responded, internally cringing at himself.  _ Nice way of showing support asshole. _ Still, Lafayette couldn't help it if he wasn't jumping for joy at the idea. “I mean….why?”

 

Hercules, never one to take offense at Laf’s blunt comments, only chuckled.

 

“I got accepted into this internship program in London for managing fashion production. I could be like uh, Meryl Streep in  _ Devil Wears Prada _ .” It was obviously a comment made to make Laf laugh, Herc opening himself up to easy ridicule, but Laf instead felt his jaw tightening.

 

“That's so weird,” He said carefully. “That you got accepted into a program you never applied to.” 

 

_ Because you would have told me if you were applying out of state, let alone out of country. Because we tell each other everything. _ The accusation was clearly written in the subtext.

 

The two were near the back of the crowd, the breeze somewhat distilled by the trees but Laf was freezing nonetheless. 

 

A little local band, playing under some fairy lights strung up between a couple trees, had drawn a pretty substantial crowd tonight in Central Park. These concerts had been Laf’s guilty pleasure when he had first moved to New York, and he’d been neglecting them for far too long. He was of the belief that New Year’s resolutions were bullshit and a weak excuse to be a better person, but he had decided to make one nonetheless.  _ This year I'll try and go out more and drink less. I need to learn how to have fun sober. _

 

Alex had wanted to stay in and work on his schedule, meaning he wanted to be left alone for five plus hours while he meticulously plotted out every detail of how he would be spending the semester academically.

 

He hated himself for thinking it, but Laf had immediately been relieved, as Alex wanting to be alone had meant he could bring John as well as Herc and have some semblance of his group back. But John was busy with Nathan, as usual.  _ At least he returned your text...for once. _ Laf wasn't a bitter person, at least he didn't think he was, but he had begun feeling a slight resentment towards John.  _ We were best friends independently of Alex...why am I being cut off as well? _ But he knew why. It was a kindness towards Alexander. Like Lafayette was a piece of property gifted to the more heartbroken spouse in a divorce as a sign of pity.  _ I know you’re miserable so here, keep the china. Fuck that. _

 

So it was only him and Herc. Lafayette and Hercules, like how it used to be when the four of them would hang out and break off into smaller conversations. John and Alex walking arm in arm, heads bent together, as Laf and Herc did the same a couple feet behind them.

 

_ And now I'll end up going to the fucking park alone. John will marry the tall stranger, Alex will become a fucking senator or something and soar, Herc will be gone, and where will you be? Twenty three and you haven't had one real substantial relationship. _

 

_ That's not fair. _ He corrected himself.  _ Friendships can be substantial. You just haven't found love yet. Well, love that is reciprocated. _

 

Laf hadn't seen George yet.  _ Washington. Professor Washington.  _ He hadn't even been to any classes yet, as both his courses started a week late. But tomorrow, winter break would be finally over for him. And he might run into George on campus at some point.  _ Am I ready for that? Am I even ready for class again? _

 

“Laf,” Herc slung an arm around him, rubbing his arm to warm him. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I felt like it was something I needed to try out for and….I was afraid you would try and talk me out of it.” Lafayette looked up sharply.

 

“ _ Patate. _ That is more offensive to me than you not telling me to begin with.” Laf scolded gently before sighing and leaning into him. “You know I'll always support you  _ mon amie.  _ But the idea of having to be without you…” Lafayette felt his eyes well up at the thought and buried his face into Herc’s arm, embarrassed.

 

“Aw, hey.” Herc pressed his cheek to the top of Laf’s head and both sighed, swaying slightly to the soft music around then. “It wouldn't be until the semester ends. I haven't even made up my mind yet.”

 

“Yes you have.” Laf pulled away to smile at him sadly. “I know you. And London will be lucky to have you.”

 

Herc smiled at him fondly and they watched the rest of the performers in comfortable silence until the concert drew to a close. Laf glanced down at his watch.

 

“Want to go bug Alex? We’re overdue for family game night.” Herc let out a booming laugh, warming Laf completely. 

 

“If we’re all a family, who’s the mom and dad?”

 

“I resent your heteronormative standards.” Laf linked arms with him as they walked towards the car. “But definitely you and I. We are always cleaning up those idiot’s messes.”

 

“I miss John.” Herc said suddenly, and Laf frowned thoughtfully. 

 

“As do I. But don't worry, they'll get over it eventually and go back to making googly eyes at one another across the room.”

 

_ And they better do it fast. _ Laf thought sadly, watching his best friend’s shoulders shake with laughter.  _ Before we all grow up and grow apart. _

 

* * *

 

_ I don't love you anymore. _

 

Alex felt his head swimming. He felt like someone had laid several heavy rocks on his chest, preventing both breathing and talking. He thought maybe John was saying something, maybe making some joke, but he couldn't hear him. He was underwater, all sounds muffled and distant and surreal.

 

“Get out.” He said once he had found his voice, the rawness in his own tone jolting him. John stopped speaking abruptly, looking at him.

 

“What?”

 

“I said,” Alex stood up, now fully in control of his senses and clenching his fists. “Get out.”

 

“Alex-”

 

“You can't just use people John.” Alex said, laughing with irony and anger clanging like church bells in his words. “I mean, god, I know I'm one to talk, but you can't just throw me out on the whim of your boyfriend and expect me to be waiting here for you when you get back.” Alex was breathing hard and he began to pace, feet falling into the familiar scuff marks of the carpet. “People aren’t books you can put on shelves and pick up again when it suits you. You don't get to just  _ ignore me _ for months and then show up and kiss me like everything’s alright. I'm a goddamn  _ person _ , not just some obstacle of temptation for you to overcome.”

 

“I didn't realize.” John said after a long moment, eyes full of regret. Alex laughed again, now on a roll but he felt that if he stopped to think, he might collapse.

 

“No you didn’t. Ya know, I have a question for you. Why didn't you text me back on Christmas, huh?” He stepped towards him, almost close enough to be looming over the still seated boy accusingly. “It was  _ Christmas _ , a holiday I don't even like. Was Nathan there, reading your texts? Or did you just decide it would be good for you to cut me out completely? Did you even  _ think _ about  **_me_ ** ?” He practically screamed the last word, and it felt damn good. 

 

Alex realized he had been so preoccupied with his heartbreak and sadness that he hadn't had time to be angry. He hadn't had the time to feel wronged.

 

“Fuck that.” Alex stepped backwards, voice softening. “I may have been a dick to you in the past, but that doesn't mean you get to just use me. So get. Out.”

 

John stated at him, mouth gaping, before nodding and then moving for the door. Alex thought that he might have looked back, but Alex’s gaze was fixated on the floor.  _ I won't give you the satisfaction. _

 

When he heard the sound of the door closing the tension in his body evaporated, his fists unclenching and his breaths suddenly growing quick and shallow all in less than a heartbeat.

 

He waited until he heard the footsteps down the hall signifying that John was completely gone before he let himself sink into the bed and wrap his arms tightly around himself, sobbing.

 

* * *

 

When Lafayette opened the door to his dorm room, Herc on his heels, he was grinning wildly, about to loudly call out “Honey, I'm home!” and hopefully annoy the shit out of a very hard at work Alexander. 

 

Instead, before he had even opened his mouth, he was cut off by a small sob coming from a lump under a mound of blankets on Alex’s bed. Throwing Herc a worried look, the two shut the door behind them and approached the bed. Laf pulled back the blankets gently, clucking his tongue sympathetically. 

 

“ _ Mon amie _ , what has happened?” 

 

Alex looked worse than Laf had ever seen him, and that was saying something. He had once witnessed his roommate, running on four hours of sleep and half a bagel over the span of forty eight hours, chug three bottles of Five Hour Energy and end up accidentally lighting himself on fire.

 

But this Alex looked broken. He was in his big woolen sweater that Laf knew his cousin had knitted him weeks before committing suicide; Alex’s comfort sweater.  _ He’s so small that it still fits, and that was when he was thirteen. _ His eyes were red rimmed, tear tracks down his pink cheeks, and his hair was ruffled by the blankets (although this was not unusual, as Alex had no idea how to style hair. He had done so well with it long because he would just tie it back into a ponytail. Now most days he forgot to even comb it), making him look as unkempt as someone living on the street.

 

“John was here.”  Alex said hoarsely and the two crawled into bed with him, Alex between them, as he retold them what had just transpired. By the end, his voice had stopped wavering and his eyes had grown hard. He laughed humorlessly. “Isn't this ironic? The heartbreaker gets his heart broken. Karma has run its course.”

 

“Don't.” Herc touched his arm. “You don't deserve heartbreak, Alex.”

 

“It's funny,” Alex went on, not seeming to hear him. “I actually thought that I had a chance with him. Isn't that something? I thought I could  _ make _ him want me. Like he did before.” He looked down. “Like I never noticed.”

 

Alex suddenly grabbed Lafayette’s arm, looking up with fire in his eyes.

 

“I need to have sex.” He announced and Laf blinked in surprise.

 

“Uh, right now? I need like, a glass of water first.” Laf said and Herc snorted, Alex rolling his eyes.

 

“I didn't mean with you. I mean with a stranger. I want to go out tonight. I want to go out and dance and fuck somebody so I don't just lay here and cry all night. Can we go to a club, please?” 

 

“That doesn't seem healthy.” Laf protested, even as he was mentally sorting through what clothes he could change into. He couldn't say no to Alex when he was truly sad. The boy rarely wore his emotions on his sleeve, and when he did it affected Laf more strongly than he cared to admit. “But alright. We can go.”

 

“Count me out.” Herc said regretfully, flashing Laf a look that said  _ we’ll tell him my news later. Tonight is about him.  _ “I'm exhausted. And it’s not my scene. But Alex,” Herc waited until he looked up at him. “You didn't deserve to be used like that. I love John, I do. But it isn't right. It wasn't right when you kissed him either, but that doesn't mean you deserve this.” Alex nodded, looking like he was struggling to maintain that poker face he had already adopted.

 

“Thanks Herc.”

 

“Can we take your car?” Laf asked and Alex pouted.

 

“Aw but if you drive who will I get drunk with?”

 

“If I have the car I have an incentive not to drink.” Laf scolded as Herc passed over his keys.  _ Gotta maintain that resolution for at least a month. _ “I need to stay sober to take care of you. Plus, I can go to Herc’s after to give him the keys, since you'll probably be bringing someone home.” Alex crinkled his eyebrows together but nodded, ultimately swayed by Laf’s logic.

 

“Fine but I'm drinking for two of us then.” Alex grumbled, rubbing his nose on his shirt collar before tearing it off, rummaging shirtless through the closest for something nice to wear out.  _ He’ll probably wear a collared shirt.  _ Laf thought fondly, watching him.  _ He thinks those are the epitome of sexy for some reason. _

 

“Text me, okay?” Herc said softly to Laf, again the real message was between the lines.  _ Text me how he's doing. Take care of him.  _ “Have fun tonight Alex.” Herc patted his arm and Alex looked up in surprise, mind already completely somewhere else. 

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Thanks Herc. Love you.” He grabbed a shirt- dark grey and collared- and threw it on unbuttoned before hugging Herc goodbye. 

 

Laf watched his friend leave, sadness still pulling at him at the thought of him leaving, before he turned back and saw Alex buttoning the shirt crooked.

 

“Oh you idiot. Come here.” Laf pulled the boy close, tsking gently, before undoing and redoing the buttons carefully, Alex’s eyes on him the whole time.

 

When he smoothed down the crinkles on Alex’s shoulders, he surprised Laf by catching his hands in his own.

 

“Maybe you were right.” Alex said in a voice Laf almost didn't recognize, one of defeat and vulnerability, two words rarely circulating Alexander. “About what you said, back in France. Maybe you and I aren't meant to be with people. Maybe our only chance would be-” His grip tightened. “With each other.” 

 

_ Wow. _ Laf took a deep breath.  _ Your turn to be the strong one Laf. _

 

“Don't you remember what you said to me?”

 

“That I didn't deserve John.” He said numbly and Laf scowled at him.

 

“No, you said that us being together would be settling. You and I are destined for great loves.” As he said it, Laf found that maybe he actually believed it. He spoke with even more conviction, for both him and Alex. “We  _ deserve  _ great loves. Maybe yours is John, maybe it is not. But don't give up on love. Don't give up on trying to better yourself.” 

 

“You're right.” Alex’s hands slipped out of his. “You're always right. But for tonight, I don't want to better myself. I just want to be sad and miserable and drunk.”

 

“One night.” Laf conceded. “You get one night of self pity, I'll allow it. But in the morning, you rise and we get coffee and you Hamilton all your classes.” Alex arched an eyebrow, a hint of a smile beginning to grow.

 

“Did you just use my name as a verb?” Laf cleared his throat dramatically.

 

“To Hamilton is to be a complete overachiever and workaholic to the point where you both lose sleep and succeed in everything you do.” Alex let out a laugh, rolling his eyes, and Laf felt satisfied that he was able to squeeze one out of the boy. “Besides,” He nudged Alexander. “We still have that ‘get married at thirty’ deal going.”

 

“Very true.” Alex ran his hands through his hair in the mirror, tugging it into an attempted style before giving up and letting it rest messy and wild. “Okay. Ready to go?”

 

“Let me change first.” Laf said, grabbing something sleek and tight fitting from the closet before grinning at Alex. “We’re gonna get you laid tonight my friend.”

 

* * *

 

“Is this really a good idea on a school night?” Lafayette screamed at Alex over the thumping music, the yellow wristband he sported that granted him access to the bar filling Alex with envy.

 

“This is my one night.” Alex screamed back, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dark blue glow of the club, a gay bar, and dragging Laf towards the bar. “It's my one night to be selfish and sad, remember? So get me a long island iced tea.”

 

“So needy.” Laf teased before turned and batting his eyes flirtatiously at the bartender, his smooth chatter that Alex tuned out earning them two free drinks.

 

“I wanna dance.” Alex said after a small sip, Laf shaking his head and pointing at his cup.

 

“Finish that first,  _ mon amie.  _ You said you wanted to get drunk and I intend to provide.”

 

Alex nodded and chugged his drink, the taste becoming more tolerable with every sip. By the time he was finished, Laf took Alex’s empty cup away and replaced it with his own full one.

 

“You're drinking for two.” He teased and once Alex had chugged that one, he was gone. “C'mon.”

 

Laf linked arms with him and pulled him towards the dancefloor, a writhing mass of bodies, barely illuminated by strobe lights, of almost entirely men.

 

Alex found, moving his feet to the rhythm, that he couldn't stop smiling. He giggled, almost losing his balance, and he felt more than saw Laf’s hands on his waist pulling him close. 

 

_ Everything is blurry.  _ He was holding Laf’s shoulders for balance, loving the feeling of fire blossoming in his chest, distracting and enveloping him. Alex knew he was drunk, on one level, yet on another level he decided he was still sober enough to be perfectly rational.  _ I'm Alexander fucking Hamilton. And Hamilton is when you are an overachiever. _

 

“See anyone you like?” Laf said in his ear, and Alex scanned the room. He locked eyes momentarily with a boy with dark skin and long, curly hair that tumbled down past his shoulders.

 

“Him.” He said loudly, Laf chuckling as he turned to look. 

 

“Him?” Laf laughed. “He's like the black version of John.” 

 

Alex frowned at the comparison but didn't protest when Laf lead him by the wrist over to the boy and his small group of friends.

 

“ _ Excusez-moi _ ,” Laf’s accent was always thicker was he was flirting.  _ “Everybody loves a foreigner.”  _ He was always joking. “But my drunk friend here finds you very attractive.” The boy smiled and looked down at Alex.  _ Wow. Those are some pretty eyes. _

 

“Kit.” He said, extending his hand.

 

“Alexander. But call me Alex.” He replied as charmingly as he could while shitfaced drunk, and when he took the hand Kit pulled him in to dance.

 

Alex was aware of Laf dancing nearby, with one of Kit’s friends, but his roommate was on the fringes of his awareness. Alex instead was focused on Kit’s steady hands on him and on wondering what his curly hair would look like tied up in a ponytail.

 

“Let's do shots.” Kit said in Alex’s ear, Alex not sure how they were suddenly by the bar again, but he didn't protest when a drink was thrust into his hand and the whole group, save Laf, clinked their shot glasses and tossed their heads back.

 

“Ya know,” Alex slurred, steadying himself with a hand against Kit’s chest. “You look a lot like someone I like.”  _ Someone I love.  _ Kit tilted his head.

 

“Want to forget him?” Alex nodded without hesitation and Kit leaned down and kissed him, hands on Alex’s neck, tasting like the vodka they had just chugged and feeling warm and steady and nothing like John had.

 

And that was the last thing that Alex remembered.

 

* * *

  
  


_ Okay Lafayette. It's your first week back in school. You're back in America. You're graduating in less than four months. You need to get your shit together. _

 

Laf wasn't nearly as much of an overachiever as his best friend, but he had completed all his required courses over the past three years. He was ready to get out.  _ All I need are some bullshit extracurriculars so I have enough credits to graduate. Piece of cake. _

 

Except he was running late to his first class of the semester, some history class specifically focusing on revolutions that had piqued his interest, thanks to said best friend.

 

“Dear god.” Alex had groaned when Lafayette shook him awake earlier this morning, the sun barely breaking over the horizon. “What the fuck happened last night?” 

 

“Well,” Laf sat on the bed beside him, extending one of the cups of coffee Herc had graciously dropped off. “You and that tall guy from last night were all hot and heavy in the back of Herc’s car as I was graciously driving you home...and then you started hysterically sobbing and he gave you his number and left.”

 

“Jesus.” Alex had rolled back over, pulling his pillow over his head and ignoring the coffee. “Just let me sleep off my humiliation.” His voice was muffled by the pillow and Laf set down the coffee, rolling up his sleeves.

 

“You aren't missing class. You're a Hamilton, remember?” Alex didn't stir. “Don't make me drag you out of bed.” He warned and, when his friend still refused to budge, sighed and grabbed him by the armpits and lifted him up, Alex squeaking in surprise. 

 

“Don't manhandle me.” He whined, shoving Laf away and standing up, immediately reaching for the coffee and groaning after one sip. “You're right, I can't miss class. God, why did you let me drink?”

 

“I could fucking murder you sometimes, you know that?” Laf said, only half joking, and helped his friend get dressed and drink several glasses of water.

 

Subsequently, he was now half running, half speed walking to class, Alex’s lethargic morning routine having taken longer than expected. His mind was occupied by how quickly graduation would be upon him, and how he needed to start looking for some kind of internship to boost his resume, as well as concern for how his friend would fare without him. 

 

_ Alex isn't a child, he doesn't need you holding his hand. _ But Laf wasn't all that convinced.

 

He text as he walked, barely glancing up from his buzzing phone as he slipped into an inconspicuous seat at the back of the lecture hall, relieved that class hadn't started yet.

 

adrienne marie: have you and alex started school again yet

adrienne marie: did you fuck that professor yet

adrienne marie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

adrienne marie: awww I just realized I'm the last person you fucked in 2016 :’)

adrienne marie: wait

adrienne marie: knowing you

french toast: you know I'm honestly starting to reconsider this long distance friendship thing

french toast: you double text more than alex 

french toast: and yes god I haven't slept with anyone since that drunken mistake, including george 

adrienne marie: oooo when we skyped you wouldn't tell me his name. It's george?

french toast: isnt it like one am over there or something?

adrienne marie: it's five pm

french toast: I should not give you information on my life. It's like feeding a wild animal

adrienne marie: kinky. Go on

french toast: I cannot convey how hard I am rolling my eyes over text

french toast: gtg class is starting 

 

It wasn't, but Lafayette wanted to be prepared. He was barely taking two classes so he couldn't afford to fail a course. This class and his one other government one gave him exactly enough credits to graduate.  _ And I want an A in both to really show off and fill that resume. _

 

He was busy gathering together his papers and pens, organizing the desk space in front of him while debating whether or not to have his laptop out, so he didn't notice the professor climbing the small set of stairs up to the podium. Not until the man started speaking.

 

“Good morning everyone.” George’s voice, a sound Lafayette hadn’t realized just how strongly he had missed, echoed through the hall, Laf almost dropping his pencil as he looked up.

 

_ No, but I checked who the professor was.  _ Laf had made double, triple sure he wasn't registered for anything George- _ Washington _ \- was teaching lest the man think Laf was stalking him. He slunk down into his seat as the man went on, hoping he would go unnoticed yet simultaneously praying the man would see him, maybe simply sense him.

 

“I know you were all expecting Professor Lemaster. However, she had a sudden scheduling mix up and is now only able to teach this course Tuesdays and Thursdays. So now you're stuck with me.” He smiled winningly and the class chuckled, obviously knowing how lucky they were to have scored Washington. He was easily the favorite in the political science and history departments alike. _The two things I'm studying, of course._ _Maybe I can switch to Tuesday and Thursdays._

 

“Now, I know most of you are expecting a week of syllabus review, but I posted ours a couple weeks in advance and expect you all are capable of skimming through it on your own. Now, if those of you who have your books would…” He trailed off as the class reached for their books and, feeling warm, Laf looked up from his bag to see the professor had spotted him. Washington blinked slowly, clearly caught off guard, before the stern expression he was known for cracked into a small, secret smile. “Those of you who have your books,” He continued, gaze moving on to sweep the rest of the room. “Please share with those who have yet to gather them. I know textbooks are pricey, so I have posted the pdfs on the course blog. The password for said blog is on the syllabus. Now, page twelve, chapter one-”

 

Lafayette felt like his heart might explode from his chest.  _ God, one smile and he has me reeled back into his clutches. _ Laf followed along in his book as the professor read aloud, pausing to lecture and add notes with animated hand gestures, each one endearing him to Laf more and more.

 

_ Really though, did he ever let you go to begin with? _

 

Occasionally they would meet eyes, George always almost smirking, and Laf shut out his thoughts, the answer as transparent as the way his pulse sped up with every glance.

 

* * *

 

 

john tortoise: can we talk?

john tortoise: it would mean a lot to me

nate the great: yeah of course john 

nate the great: the library starbucks?

john tortoise: I can be there in ten 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Hey.”

 

John wanted to smile as he pulled up a seat across from Nathan, the sight of the boy familiar and warm. Yet the moment was tinged with wrongness, their greetings awkward and tense, and John hated it. He wanted to be happy to see Nate again, in the light of day, and maybe make amends and make the night before feel like just a cold and foolish mistake, not to be repeated.

 

_ No, Nathan dumping you wasn't last night’s biggest mistake. _

 

John couldn't understand why Alexander had reacted the way he had. Or maybe he could, but he refused to see what was right in front of him. Regardless, he had been walking around with a sinking feeling in his gut ever since. And John had hardly slept more than a few anxious hours, tossing and turning and nightmares only interrupted by being jolted awake, his body set on reminding him how badly he had fucked up.

 

_ You don't know what you ask of me. _ That's what Alex had said to John, trying to say no and John refusing to listen.  _ You don't know what you ask of me. _

 

_ You're right Alex, I don't know. Explain it to me. Don't shut me out.  _

 

It had been one thing, John had realized selfishly, when it was  _ John  _ choosing to avoid Alex. Alexander had still text him on Christmas, had still watched all his snapchat updates almost instantly. John had known the whole time that, should he need him, Alex would be right there waiting with open arms. It was a shitty thing to do to a person, he knew, but John just couldn't stand the idea of losing Alex completely. He had needed the knowledge that the boy was waiting for him in order to feel safe.

 

But now he may have lost that security blanket forever. This time it was Alexander who had yelled at John, who had thrown him out, who had  _ cried. _

 

_ You don't know what you ask of me. _

 

“You wanted to talk?” Nathan prodded gently and John realized he had been silent for a little too long.  _ Now we see if it was worth it. _

 

“Yes.” John cleared his throat, suddenly shy around the boy just yesterday he had thought he could love. “I just wanted you to know that yesterday after….after our fight, I went to see Alex.” Nathan arched an eyebrow as if saying  _ guess I was right about that _ and John scrambled to finish. “Because I was upset and stubborn and I wanted to prove you wrong.” He said and his tone must have betrayed him because Nathan  _ tsk _ ed sadly.

 

“Oh John, what did you do?” The softness of his words made John inhale shakily, afraid all of a sudden that he might burst into tears and be unable to stop if he started talking.

 

“Promise me you won’t think I’m a bad person?” He whispered and Nathan’s eyes were brimming with empathy.

 

“John. You know I won’t think that.”

 

“I...I asked him to kiss me.” Nathan’s expression was only sad, not accusatory, and for that reason alone John was able to continue. “I know it's fucked up….but I had to do it. I had to make sure it wasn't true….I had to know that I wasn't in love with him.”

 

“Why?” Nathan frowned. “Why go through that? Why make  _ him _ go through that?”

 

“For you.” John whispered. “I thought that if I showed you that you were wrong...you would take me back.” He looked down, feeling pathetic, and almost cried with relief when he felt Nathan take his hand.

 

“Oh John.” But that tone crushed him over again. It was pity, a touch of heartache mixed in. “What happened next?”

 

“I think I broke him.” John said with an ironic little laugh. “I told him that I was right….that I wasn't into him anymore. And he just exploded.”  _ Ah, but that's not exactly what you said, is it? You didn't put it so gently, did you? _

 

_ But why would it upset him so much? Was he afraid I would go back to Nathan and stop being his friend again?  _ John blinked to clear his head.

 

“But it would be worth it,” He dared to intertwine their fingers. “If we could just go back to how we were before. I don't love him, I  _ know _ it now.” Nathan’s sigh was sweet as a song.

 

“John. I love you, I really really do.” John looked up hopefully. “But I think this thing you have with Alex isn't finished. And I can't get in the way of that. I'm not saying you love him.” He said when John started to protest. “But even that friendship is a spider web I don't want to get tangled in. And have you ever considered that  _ he _ is in love with  _ you _ ?”

 

_ You don't know what you ask of me. _

 

_ Merry Christmas John _

 

_ You're here? You're always right here, aren't you?  _

 

_ No offense but...I was just drunk. You know that right? I mean, I'm very sorry. But it won’t happen again. Because it was just the alcohol talking. _

 

_ John. I want you. _

 

_ Remember that day we met at the library? Its funny cause….I was actually trying to pick up on you, ya know? I was trying to take you home. _

 

Sentences, out of context, floated around in abstract, hard to grasp clouds in John’s thoughts. Words Alex had said to him that drunken night he’d kissed him, how he had been acting ever since, how he’d reacted last night.  _ Oh my god. No. I would've known if he loved me. He would have told me. Alexander Hamilton doesn't fall in love and if he did, he sure as fuck wouldn't keep it a secret. He's too selfish for that. _

 

_ But you haven't seen him in a long time John. Do you know him well enough to make that call anymore? _

 

“I can't get between that.” Nathan was still talking, extracting his hand, and John bit his lip.

 

“So, we aren't getting back together.” It wasn't a question, and Nathan’s eyes said enough. “But...but you love me.”

 

“I love you enough to let you go.” He said in a strange, distant voice. And, almost on impulse, Nathan leaned across the table and turned slowly to kiss John’s cheek, as if changing his mind at the last second. “Goodbye John.”

 

John watched him get up and leave, numb, not even truly absorbing the loss.

 

_ You don't know what you ask of me. _

 

What were the implications of that?  _ And worse yet, what have I done? _

 

_ If Alex really is in love with me, then what have I done? _

 

* * *

 

tjeffs had started a groupchat 

tjeffs had named the groupchat: debate club revenge squad

 

slice of ham: oh dear god

angel of music: honey darling sweetie

angel of music: how many times do I have to spell it out for you

angel of music: suicide squad is not a movie to base real life events off of

tjeffs: but I'm jared leto :(

slice of ham: you sure fuckin are

tjeffs: ANYWAY you DREAM KILLERS aside

tjeffs: I want us to take back the debate club

tjeffs: and I want us to do it in a badass way

slice of ham: I'm in

 

angel of music changed the name of the groupchat to: the dream killers

 

slice of ham changed the name of the groupchat to: hammy’s angels

 

angel of music: oh gross

tjeffs: I hate you alex 

slice of ham: I HAD A ROUGH NIGHT LET ME HAVE THIS

tjeffs: I heard ;)

tjeffs: Laf updates snapchat religiously 

slice of ham: he's dead to me now so

angel of music: yeah how's that hangover 

slice of ham: what's ur master plan thomas 

tjeffs: um, I already said it

tjeffs: we take back debate club

slice of ham: yes but how

tjeffs: if i knew, would I have started this chat

angel of music: so you want us to construct a plan, then you claim credit for having the idea in the first place

tjeffs: babe you really just get me

slice of ham: alright I thought of something 

slice of ham: we kill aaron burr 

angel of music: not useful

tjeffs: wait let him finish

angel of music: I hate you guys

angel of music: but in all seriousness

angel of music: what if we started a second debate club

slice of ham: c’mon angie that's like throwing your birthday party on the same day as the popular girl to see who will come

tjeffs: aww ham did that happen to you

angel of music: no hear me out. Everyone in the club respects us three. Everyone loves thomas

slice of ham: can't imagine why

angel of music: so we poach them from adams and take our team to actual competitions

tjeffs: are we allowed to do that???? Like, are there any rules against it???

angel of music: as long as we have a different club name, we’re golden

slice of ham: oh my god, are we really doing this??

slice of ham: I wanna be VP 

tjeffs: bitch please. That's angelica 

angel of music: I picture you as more of a secretary

slice of ham: I want to be treasurer

tjeffs: congrats you get to be both

slice of ham: guys are we really doing this?

tjeffs: I'm really hyped so if it doesn't work I might actually cry

angel of music: we are really doing this and it will really work

angel of music: with our combined forces nobody will say no. And we actually know debate, the rules and the ropes

tjeffs: we are

tjeffs: THE DEBATE CLUB REVENGE SQUAD

slice of ham: HAMMY’S ANGELS

slice of ham: aww we said that in unison :’)

angel of music: you're both my bitches and thats that

slice of ham: damn aight

tjeffs: damn bae anything you say

angel of music: come over 

slice of ham: on my way

tjeffs: SHE MEANT ME DUMBASS

angel of music: I mean you could both come ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

slice of ham: gross I'm out get a room

tjeffs: my lady is waiting we’ll further discuss this later

slice of ham: what like in five minutes

angel of music: savage

tjeffs: I suddenly feel like sexting in this groupchat

slice of ham: FUCK GOD NO OKAY OKAY GOODBYE

angel of music: later ham

tjeffs: ;)

 

* * *

 

unsaved number: I didn't know you were interested in the history of revolution strategy 

french toast: I just need enough credits to graduate

french toast: so I was like oh hey let's learn about war

unsaved number: Isn't the stereotype that french people run away from war?

french toast: are you mocking me

unsaved number: Perhaps

french toast: how unprofessional

unsaved number: You are right

unsaved number: My apologies 

french toast: omg I was kidding

unsaved number: (:

french toast: were you pulling my leg again???

french toast: ur sense of humor does not translate over text

unsaved number: Maybe it's the language barrier.

french toast: the only language barrier is you texting like an old man

french toast: there should no be punctuation or capitalization 

unsaved number: I studied english for too many years for that

unsaved number: but I guess I could learn the kids lingo

 

Lafayette blinked at his screen for almost four solid minutes, unsure of how to reply. He didn't want this conversation to end, yet every word felt like he was treading on thin ice.  _ Why are you texting me?  _ If he came forward and asked, he was certain that not only would George not reply, but that the professor would never text him again.  _ This is nothing to tie your hopes on Laf. It’s a crumb. _

 

_ But it's something. _ Laf sighed. He was laying in bed, thumb scrolling over their messages in disbelief, softly mouthing them to himself.  _ What could I say? _

 

_ Learn the lingo for me ;) _ Laf quickly concluded that so obviously flirtatious a message would shatter the metaphorical ice beneath their feet and send him plunging into cold water. And, on top of that, the idea of such a message made Laf uncharacteristically nervous. He could normally flirt as heavily, frequently, and sexually as he felt like without his confidence being shaken in the least.  _ But you've never felt like this before, to be fair. _

 

_ What are we doing George?  _ What Laf really wanted to ask, but couldn't quite bring himself to type out. The way George acted around Laf made him think that maybe,  _ just maybe _ , it wasn't all in his head. But that theory was all tangled up in high hopes and slim chances, so he refused to let himself completely believe that George felt anything for him other than fondness.  _ Maybe he sees you like a son. Freshman year, when Alexander practically lived in his office, he was always saying how George wanted a son. _

 

_ But George has to know how you feel. He has a reputation as probably the most intelligent professor on campus. Nobody is that blind. So then why text me? _

 

unsaved number: Have a good night Gilbert 

 

Laf almost groaned aloud, realizing that he had been stressing over what to reply with for almost seventeen minutes.  _ Great. Now you lost your chance. You'll love to overthink another day. _

 

french toast: goodnight George

 

He hit send and rolled over to sleep when he felt his phone buzz with one more text

 

unsaved number: *Lafayette. I meant good night Lafayette

 

_ Fantasy or not, I'm in trouble. _ Laf sighed as he plugged in his phone but fell asleep smiling.

 

* * *

 

john tortoise: I'm sorry I didn’t text you back on christmas 

john tortoise: I'm sorry I hurt you, but I needed to be selfish over winter break. I loved you so much Alex. I needed to learn how to love myself. How to put myself first. I changed a lot, I’d like to think. And I want you to get to know the new me. I want us to start over.

slice of ham: I changed a lot over the break too John.

slice of ham: and I didn't have to hurt anybody to do it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patate=idiot but affectionately (at least that's what I got from my translator love you loona)
> 
> Anyway if you've ever commented ever or even vaugely enjoy this fic I love you and you should come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://angstypanfeminist.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading!!!!!!!!!!!! 
> 
> (Sorry not sorry for the angst ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ )


	13. Chapter 13 (2014)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***PLEASE READ***
> 
> okay so since the next plot progressing chapter is going to be long as a motherfucker I wanted to throw in a kindof flashback chapter, since i started in their junior year (for laf/john/alex anyway) of college and just established these relationships. so this is just kinda for funsies and goes back to FRESHMAN YEAR, 2014
> 
> also im such a dick ive had this chapter finished for like two days but kept forgetting to post it however I DID remember to update my [science fiction lams fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7999390?view_full_work=true) if you wanna please check it out and maybe leave me a little comment
> 
> lots of love and thank you so much for reading and tolerating how long my chapters are and how long I take to update please enjoy xoxox

turtle guy: hey um it's me john

turtle guy: the guy from the library

turtle guy: and like, the seventeen clubs ur in

slice of ham: yes john I am aware of who you are lmao we hung out for like 3+ hours yesterday

turtle guy: oh cool just making sure

 

Alex rolled his eyes somewhat fondly, hiding his phone behind his pencil case as his teacher scanned the room, then remembered that this wasn't high school and nobody cared, and held it blatantly in front of his face. _I'll pass anyway. I already read the entire goddamn textbook._

 

“You are very _enthousiaste_.” His roommate, finally getting a grip on english, had admonished him upon discovering Alexander huddled over every book despite the late hour.

 

“Enthusiastic.” He had replied absently, mouthing the words as he went along. He was far more comfortable in English than Laf was, but it had been a long time since he had written or read anything outside of _español._ The words, which he could hear and comprehend as easily as his own name, seemed foreign and scary when printed in impossibly small, black font.

 

“Come play instead of studying your life away.” Laf had forced him out of the chair and out for a subway ride to central park, which Alex would never admit he was grateful for, but his best friend knew.

 

_Huh. Best friend._

 

It hadn't occurred to him that Laf was his best friend, because that word fell so short of what he really felt for his roommate. Another immigrant; foreign and lonely and _queer._ It was like the great cosmic powers of the universe had decided that Alexander had suffered enough and sent him anything he could ever want in a friend, all wrapped up neatly in a bow. _If I was interested in relationships, maybe I would date him._

 

But Alex, eighteen years old with the weight of the world on his shoulders and a couple months into his first year of college, didn't believe in love. His mother had loved his father, and look where that had left her. No, being dependent upon others was for the weak, as life had so cruelly taught him. Alexander Hamilton was resolved to never get married, never be in a monogamous relationship, and to never fall in love.

 

 _What I_ **_want_ ** _is a decent hookup._ The thought snapped him back into the present, gazing down at his phone in frustration.

 

He liked John, he really did. And he wasn't exactly swimming in options for friends. _Right now you have Lafayette, your roommate, and the guy he tried to fuck from your math class._ Laf and Herc were it.

 

He had noticed John Laurens boring holes into the back of his head every club meeting, how could he not? The boy practically started sweating whenever Alex opened his mouth. It was an effect Alex was used to having, especially back home. He had easily been the smartest, most compelling kid in town, as the population was less than the entire Columbia campus. People listened when he spoke, and they listened with rapture. Alexander craved it, he wanted the expressions of awe in their faces to be liquidized so he could slurp them up with a spoon. It was all the nourishment he needed.

 

_And that fucking John Laurens has to ruin it by actually being interesting._

 

They had almost identical political beliefs, discussing them with such fervour that they had received glares in the library, voices climbing higher and higher, and Alex was half sure John was going to stand up on the table from the passion with which he spoke. When Alex had first noticed the boy staring a little too long in the various clubs, noticed him hanging off Alex’s every word, he wanted to fuck him. That was exactly how he had thought it, holding eye contact with those soft brown eyes until the boy would blush and look away. _I'm going to fuck him and rock his little world._

 

But not only was John quickly shifting over into the territory of someone Alex would rather text all night than have bent over a table all night, he didn't seem interested.

 

“Is your hair naturally this curly?” Alex had toyed with one of John’s wavy strands as his asked, his charm amped up to full capacity. He was holding the boy’s gaze, occasionally letting his eyes drop to John’s lips, as well as occasionally flashing him a flirtatious little half smirk he had perfected back home that had the girls and boys of his high school swooning.

 

“Yeah. I get it from my mom’s side.” John had barely noticed, beaming at Alex like they were old chums, as opposed to practically strangers. “She was the Latino. My dad’s white. His hair when he was young literally didn't have a single curl in it, which I'm pretty jealous of. But he's going bald now so maybe I’m lucky I got my mother’s hair? I don't know. What about you? Do you look more like your mom or your dad?” Alex felt like he was being interviewed on a first date, and quickly gave up trying to get into John’s pants. _Maybe he only gazed at you before because he genuinely liked what you had to say?_ The idea disgruntled him.

 

Regardless, Alex found he didn't mind. Lafayette was becoming like family, sure. But John….He felt an instant connection to John. Something intangible that kept him hooked and enthralled, so much so that he hadn't even realized how late they had been up talking, a true feat. Alex was always hyper aware of the clock ticking his life away, aware of every passing minute. It was almost a relief to be at ease enough to forget.

 

slice of ham: something you needed, turtle guy? Bc I'm kindof in class

turtle guy: just was gonna see if you wanted to grab coffee? If you have any breaks today

 

Alex chewed his lip thoughtfully, the buzz of classroom discussion droning on without him, an anomaly given he never passed up the chance to run his mouth. _I was going to use my break today after Q &A club to write that paper Washington mentioned in the syllabus….but what the hell. _

 

slice of ham: do you have time after Q&A?

turtle guy: I do :)

 

A couple hours later found Alex sitting across from John at a little cafe on campus. Alex had never tried the coffee here but he wanted to seem cool and elusive rather than just suggesting Starbucks.

 

“Is it just me or…”

 

“No yeah this coffee is shit.” Alex agreed with a laugh at John’s foul expression, mildly embarrassed that he had trusted a recommendation from that douchey frat boy who spoke obnoxiously loud in history class and who Laf had, for some god forsaken reason, befriended. “Sorry I uh...heard about it through a friend.”

 

“I've had worse.” John shrugged, gamely taking another sip. He had his hair pulled back in a ponytail, as he had last night in the library, and Alex was struck by how attractive he was. Now that he had decided he was not going to try and sleep with John, he really took a moment to appreciate how aesthetically pleasing he was. His features might not have been attractive on their own; too many freckles, untamed hair, a wide smile. But all together, he was really very handsome. _Purely aesthetically, of course._

 

“You're very good looking.” Alex said conversationally and John choked on his drink.

 

“Ah, thank you.” The tips of his ears were turning red, to Alex’s amusement, and to his surprise John smirked at him. “You aren't so bad yourself. Although not everyone can be blessed with my good looks.”

 

“From your mother, right?” Alex joked dryly and John laughed.

 

“God, I talk a lot don't I?” Alex snorted.

 

“Usually people tell me that. If they think I run out of breathe in English they should hear how I can rant in Spanish.” John’s eyes flashed and soon they were quipping back and forth in Alex’s favorite of the languages he knew, warmth spreading through his chest. He was perfectly comfortable in english, as well as French, but this was nice. He hadn't realized that he was homesick in the slightest until this moment.

 

Their heated discussion of whether or not pineapple belonged on pizza (Alexander insisted it did) or in the trash (where John insisted it really belonged) was interrupted by Alex’s phone vibrating. It was a text, entirely in french, from Laf and he was surprised at the time his phone revealed, almost two hours had slipped by. _Once again this kid has me losing track of time. Huh._

 

french toast: _are you coming home any time soon bc I want to order pizza and I'll look like a fatass if I open the door and the delivery boy sees just me_

 

Alex looked up and John, frowning slightly, before making a decision.

 

“Hey,” He tilted his head, back to English. “Wanna come back to my place?” John hesitated and Alex stammered to finish. “I feel like you and my roommate would get along and...yeah.” _And I don't want to end this chat just yet but I don't want to say that and seem like a creep who's clinging on to you despite having just met you. Although that is a pretty accurate portrayal of me._

 

“Sure.” John flashed Alex a nervous smile. “Is your roommate cool?” Alex heard an unspoken question that he couldn't place. Was John asking if Laf was homophobic, or racist, or an idiot or what?

 

“He's like me.” He said simply, standing up, and John smirked.

 

“Oh so not cool at all then?” Alex shoved him, leading the way back to his dorm room, the two laughing obnoxiously and exchanging stupid jokes while Alex text.

 

slice of ham: omw right now. Order two pizzas

french toast: _oh so you're the fatass_

slice of ham: remember that boy I told you about from all my clubs?¿

french toast: _curly hair boy that you want to fuck yes go on_

slice of ham: he's coming too lol his name’s john be cool

slice of ham: and no french

french toast: cool is, how is the expression, my middle name

slice of ham: you know the expression asshole

 

Alex and John heard laughter as they approached the room, John giving Alex a curious look, but Alex only raised his eyebrows. He hadn't known Laf was inviting anyone over. _If I walk in on him and some senior boy so help me..._

 

He opened the door and sitting cross legged on the floor, an opened bottle of wine between them, were Laf and Hercules. _God, how does my roommate always have alcohol?_ Alex grinned, clapping John on the shoulders and gently pushing him inside.

 

“Alexander my boy!” Laf’s accent, already thick, was nearly indecipherable when he had a little rosé in him. He spread his arms wide as he spoke, a ridiculous caricature of a puppet with the strings stretched far apart. “I figured if you are bringing a friend to this pizza party, I will too, _non_?”

 

“Hey, I'm Hercules. Swear to God, it's my real name.” Herc stood up to shake John’s hand, the boy easily accepting and grinned comfortably back.

 

“John. John Laurens.”

 

“Are you gay, John?” Laf said, not moving to get up, and Alex kicked him.

 

“This is my super rude roommate with no boundaries, Lafayette. But everyone calls him Laf.”

 

“Is that French?” John asked, seemingly unphased, which impressed Alex. The boy had seemed nervous around him, the shy type, but his eyes glinted mischievously in the face of Alex’s friends. “And yeah. Queer as a three dollar bill.” _Now_ Laf stood up, grabbing a small styrofoam cup, presumably full of wine, and passed it to John.

 

“It is French. My full name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette. Have some wine. It's pink.”

 

“Don't worry about remembering all that.” Herc patted John’s arm and sat back down, inviting both to join them on the ground. “You won't need to use his name at all ever. Just shout ‘Hey assole’ anywhere on campus and he’ll show up.”

 

“Or ‘free booze’.” Alex joked, sitting across from John and beside Laf, eyes not leaving him. “He might literally materialize out of thin air for a shot.”

 

“Or free dick.” Laf smirked and John choked on his drink for the second time that day, all of them laughing. “Awe Alex, you did not tell me your friend was a prude.”

 

“Lay off him.” Alex was smiling but the look he flashed Laf was stern. _Don't scare this boy off._

 

“Pardon me.” Laf reached forward and squeezed John’s leg. “I am french.”

 

“His excuse for everything.” Herc rolled his eyes fondly.

 

A knock on the door made Laf squeal and jump to his feet so quickly he kicked over the wine bottle, Herc catching it before even a drop could spill.

 

“Pizza!”

 

“Did you get pineapple?” Alex called, kicking John when he made a face, and Herc nodded.

 

“No, you're right John. He's a sick creature for enjoying _fruit_ on _pizza_.”

 

“Herc I've watched you put ketchup on hot cheetos.” Alex deadpanned and Herc threw up his hands.

 

“God himself intended ketchup as a condiment for junk food Alex. God _himself._ ”

 

“Move over.” Lafayette threw the boxes of pizza down to the floor, careless in every aspect of his life, and grabbed his laptop. “American Horror Story just added a new season to Netflix. Let's get drunk.”

 

Alex glanced at John and patted the space next to him, so they were all on one side with the laptop in front of them. Lafayette passed around some plates and refilled everyone’s wine glass as they settled in to an opening scene of Taissa Farmiga and some boy getting hot and heavy. John quickly went through two cups of wine and rested his head on Alex’s shoulder, cheeks pink.

 

“Scare easily?” Alex whispered down to him, absently moving a strand of hair out of John’s face. John smirked.

 

“No way. Why, want to protect me or some shit?” He joked but the intended toughness of his words was lost when he gasped at something on screen, jumping closer into Alex. Alex laughed.

 

“Uh huh. Sure.” He teased and John shoved him, clearly capable of matching Alex and the rest of his little trio wit for wit, taunt for taunt.

 

_You could fit right in John Laurens._

 

* * *

 

John hadn't had this much fun all semester. When he had come to New York, he hadn't known what to expect. He was someone fresh out of the closet, despite having known almost all his life, and didn't all gay men eventually migrate to New York? That was what television taught him, and San Francisco was too far of an alternate. Still, it hasn't been terrible. He had made a couple classroom friends here and there, his roommate kept out of his way. He wasn't miserable, but he wasn't happy enough to not be considering the possibility that he had made a mistake.

 

“Laurens’ don't leave South Carolina.” His father had stoically said, one eyebrow arched, when John applied to Columbia. And that was essentially it. He and Henry Laurens didn't speak much, and the man made no effort to stop him, nor any encouragement for him to flit. _Maybe,_ John feared in his loneliest moments, _maybe he was right. Maybe there's nowhere for me but home._

 

Until tonight. Somehow the movie marathon between him and these other three boys (who he for the life of him could not determine the sexualities of) had evolved into an incredibly drunken game of monopoly. Alex had flipped the board twice already, nearly sending John into hysterics, and Lafayette kept spewing rapid fire french profanities in return, while Herc simply moved his little thimble past GO and repeatedly collected his two hundred dollars, catching anything Laf threw.

 

 _Maybe all you needed to make this place home was a couple of friends._ He watched Alexander, the man frustratedly sweeping his hair back into a ponytail, and his throat tightened. _Maybe more._

 

“John.” He was too distracted, or too drunk, to notice Lafayette suddenly standing above him, patting his arm. “Come with me to the bathroom. That way I can show you where it is.” _For next time_ , was the implication, and it made John giddy. He felt like a dweeby country boy, and they were all _so cool._ He desperately wanted to be part of their little gang, wanted them to like him as he liked them. _Especially Alex._

 

He was almost certain Alex was gay. But he was also constantly flirting with the girls in their clubs, so maybe John was just projecting. _Maybe he's bisexual, or is that too much to hope for?_

 

He stumbled after Laf into a little bathroom, complete with several showers and stalls, and barely registered the frenchman locking the door behind them.

 

“ _Enfin seul,_ ” Laf murmured, leaning against the door, eyes burning into John, who laughed and gripped the sink for balance, being in an upright position making him woozy.

 

“What does that mean?” He started to ask when Lafayette cut him off by crossing the room to him and pressing their mouths together.

 

John made a noise of surprise, eyes wide open, and stumbled backwards to balance against the countertop. Lafayette’s hands were on the back of his head, chests together, fingers in his hair, and John inadvertently moved his lips in return, eyes slipping shut and leaning forward. The sensations were all too much all at once in his drunk state, overwhelming him in a way that was far from unpleasant.

 

“Laf.” He pulled back after only a heartbeat, wanting to ask the man to stop but the words didn't come. At the separation, the boy’s mouth began to trace down John’s neck, sucking slightly, and instead of pushing him away John found himself moaning.

 

 _John no! What are you doing?_ His head screamed at him. _You want Alex. And you don't snag a guy as your boyfriend by making out with his roommate!_

 

John felt no attraction towards Laf, really he didn't. It was just that here was a _man_ , a man who _wanted_ John, who was tugging at his hair and shirt like he _needed_ John. John had never felt like an object of desire. And John had never been kissed by a man before in his life.

 

John thought it comically ironic, that he had gotten so far with a girl yet never even held a man’s hand. He’d had sex with his high school girlfriend, Martha, out of a sense of obligation and a nagging self hatred. And, partially, in hopes of proving himself wrong. But John was, in fact, very gay and he was very aware of it right now.

 

He pushed Laf gently away, perhaps the hardest thing he had ever done, and inhaled shakily.

 

“I am sorry. But I can't.”

 

He expected the man to be upset, to maybe try again, but Lafayette simply shrugged and turned to check his reflection in the mirror, adjusting his ponytail as if making out with boys in a bathroom was just a typical weeknight. John gaped.

 

“Um so...that's it?” He felt mildly hurt that Laf didn't seem to care and it showed, the man turning to smirk at him.

 

“You asked me to stop, _mon amie_. Did you expect me to force myself on you?”

 

“I...no.” John stammered, still incredibly flustered. “I just…I've never.” Laf’s mouth turned into a perfect O, the man looking slightly sheepish.

 

“You are a virgin? Holy shit. Don't let me ruin your wedding night plans.” John huffed indignantly.

 

“It's not like I'm a prude. I've just never even met another gay guy before….you guys.” He trailed off, the question lingering, and Laf took pity on him.

 

“Alex is bisexual. Not gay. But he does prefer men.” John swallowed, heart soaring, and Laf rolled his eyes. “Yes yes all the boys love Alex.”

 

John smiled down at his shoes as Laf finished fixing his hair before he felt the man’s eyes on him again.

 

“Does that mean I was your first kiss?”

 

“No.” John said quickly, annoyed at Laf’s seeming superiority, then sighed at the sincerity in his eyes. “Well, with a man. Yes.”

 

“Do you want to try again then?” John looked up sharply but Laf was still looking at him kindly rather than the impish look he had grown accustomed to over the course of the night.

 

“Like, kiss again?”

 

“ _Oui_ ,” Laf stepped closer. John was sitting on the counter now, legs slightly parted, and Laf moved between them, closer to John’s face. “Since I already ruined the first one, we could make it a nicer memory than me throwing myself at you in the men’s restroom, _non_?” John, unable to speak, only nodded, granting Laf all the permission he needed. Maybe if he were sober he might have refused, but the alcohol in his veins recognized the sweetness of the offer rather than over analyzing it’s meaning. John closed his eyes.

 

This time, Laf leaned in slowly and his lips were sweet, gently moving in time with John’s, his hand reaching to cup his face. John felt himself imagining it was another boy pressed up against him, the same lips that shaped rivers and valleys of words and speeches now caught in his own. Those big brown eyes, entirely captivating, that unruly hair and rumpled yet simultaneously entirely composed way he held himself. _Alexander._

 

John jerked away, his heart pounding, and pinched his leg hard in the hopes that the pain would distract him from how the blood in his body was rushing entirely the wrong direction. _Think about Martha, your dad. Anything but Alex._

 

_Alex._

 

“So it was good for you?” Laf joked with a smirk, and tugged John off the counter. “C'mon. Have some more pizza and end your fantasizing about my roommate.” John turned red.

 

“I was not-” But Laf ignored him, unlocking the door and slipping away, leaving John to compose himself with a quick breath and run after him.

 

“You two took a while.” Alex eyed Lafayette suspiciously as they reentered and John felt certain that Alex would see right through him. Would see that he was just a pathetic, lonely boy with a crush but desperate enough to take whatever he could get.

 

“You wouldn't know with that shitstorm of yours but decent hair actually takes some time to make into the perfection.” Laf said, patting the top of his head, and Alex broke into a crooked smile that let John breathe again.

 

“There's no ‘the’. Just say make perfection.” Alex looked at John and tilted his head, the full force of his smile directed at John alone, making him feel like he had swallowed the sun. “Hey how drunk are you? Because you can just sleep here. It's late to walk home.” John liked them very much, but he didn't know enough about Lafayette to trust that if he slept here the boy wouldn't try to crawl under the covers with him.

 

“Thanks but I have an early class tomorrow so I should…” He trailed off, motioning lamely towards the door, and Alex jumped to his feet.

 

“I'll walk you.” He made a show of puffing out his chest. “Lest some vile creature take advantage of the pretty boy in his drunkenness.” Lafayette snorted, giving John a secret look, but John hardly noticed. _Pretty boy._

 

Alex yelled at Laf to leave the door unlocked and linked arms with John, guiding him down the hallway and back outside, the sky now black and dotted with stars. The silence that engulfed them was a pleasant contrast to the rowdiness of the dorm room. John felt a warmth in his chest that wasn't from the alcohol.

 

“It doesn't seem fair,” He mumbled after nearly tripping over his own feet for the second time. “That you drank as much as I did and are relatively sober.” Alex chuckled, nudging him.

 

“Well I'm not a lightweight.”

 

“Neither am I!” John protested, pouting at the skeptical way Alex raised an eyebrow. “Well, maybe with wine. You should see me chug Sam Adams.”

 

“Anybody can hold their _beer_.” Alex laughed. “It's fucking beer. Let's see you match me in whiskey shots.”

 

“Let's see who gets stoned quicker.” John challenged and Alex smirked.

 

“You smoke?” John suddenly felt nervous, _great now he’ll think you're some hippie ass pothead,_ but he raised his chin regardless.

 

“Yeah. You?”

 

“Not since coming to the states.” Alex shrugged. “But where I grew up, in the Caribbean, at my high school it was like watching television. Just passed the time.”

 

“Huh.” John studied Alex, the spaced apart street lamps casting shadows on his face. “I would've guessed you were Puerto Rican.”

 

“Really?” Alex grinned like he’d won the lottery. “I am. Usually people guess...anything else.” He laughed and John noticed that he laughed with his eyes as well, lighting up despite the darkness. “My mom, Puerto Rican, moved to the Caribbean to be with my dad. So there's my exciting ethnic tale.” He looked at John. “What about you?”

 

“Puerto Rican too baby.” He winked and they both exchanged matching, dopey grins. “Mexican too. But half white. I live with my dad. My mom uh, she died.” He tried to shrug it off but Alex stopped in his tracks, stopping John along with him, and gave him an indecipherable look.

 

“Mine too!” He said with odd enthusiasm, then just stared thoughtfully. “Guess we have a lot in common.”

 

“Guess so.” John whispered, mouth dry, and they looked at one another for too long. Alex stepped closer and John thought-hoped-that Alex would kiss him. But instead he nodded at the building behind them.

 

“This is your dorm, right? You said Furnald Hall?”

 

“Oh? Yeah.” John turned around, annoyed with how quickly they had reached his dorm when it seemed to take hours on the trek home from class. “Guess so.”

 

Alex surprised him by pulling him into a hug before pulling back and rubbing his shoulders.

 

“Don't be a stranger.” Alex said with a smile and John felt his stomach lurch at the thought of Alex walking away. He spoke quickly and without the consent of his rationale.

 

“Do you want to come up?” Alex blinked and he forced an expression of neutrality. “We could smoke. Uh, if you want. Since its been awhile for you.” Alex blinked before nodding, biting his lip to suppress an obviously huge grin.

 

“Sure. I guess that way we can see if you get faded as quickly as you get drunk.” He stuck out his tongue and John laughed, leading him upstairs, grateful he didn’t have to say goodbye just yet.

 

* * *

 

french toast: after political science you and me. spinellis. greys anatomy marathon.

slice of ham: fuck I wish. I promised john id help him rehearse his communications speech tonight :/

french toast: fine but since ur not here, dibs on mcsteamy

slice of ham: you know I only have eyes for jackson

french toast: shit you right. I want him then

 

* * *

 

french toast: saturday!!!! Clear ur schedule!!!

french toast: Herc and I are trying to get tickets to les mis

slice of ham: saturday John and I are going to the met. Neither of us have ever been

french toast: can't you go another time?

slice of ham: John cant any other day. Can't you get tickets for another time?

 

* * *

 

  
french toast: bring me burgerking 

slice of ham: you lazy asshole

french toast: </3

slice of ham: lmao I would but our dorm is so far from john's 

french toast: you fucking fuck

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: want to grab lunch @ the dining hall?

slice of ham: I'm with john, can he come

french toast: finally the boy grows some sense. Yes he can come just stop neglecting me

french toast: I need attention to live

slice of ham: I'm rolling my eyes rn just fyi

french toast: you don't think I could find another friend more willing to give me the attention I require?

slice of ham: on our way

 

* * *

 

“A costume party?” John was in the backseat with Alex, clad in the boy’s hoodie, much to Laf’s amusement.

 

The foursome formerly a threesome, nearly inseparable after only a week and a half, were taking Herc’s newly acquired car for a spin. It was a dull gray, used, and, in Laf’s opinion, ugly as dirt. But it was Herc’s first car and the man was in love with it. Besides, it wasn't like any of the others had alternate cars to offer up. Herc had just elevated his status in the group to king, king of transportation. _And I am queen of shotgun._

 

“ _Oui_ ,” Laf had English mastered at this point, other than the occasional monster of a word, but he liked slipping into French to remind them of his status. _I am a foreign french babe, don't forget it._ “My friend from Pi Kap is having a house party and its costumes themed.”

 

“Is this that dude who wore a silk robe to class?” Alex grumbled from directly behind him, and when Laf didn't immediately respond he groaned. “God. I hate that guy.”

 

“You've never even talked to Thomas.” Laf snapped and Alex kicked his seat, Herc flashing him a stern look.

 

“I don't have to. He spends the _entire class_ talking. And, if for some miraculous reason he isn't running his mouth, he has his hand up in the air waving his fingers around until he gets called on again.”

 

“Alex don't you do that?” Herc offered from the driver’s seat and Laf snickered.

 

“I thought only girls were allowed in to frat parties?” John asked, consoling Alex with a little pat on the arm that Laf caught through the rearview mirror. He turned around and smiled sheepishly.

 

“To get in, I may have told him you all were gay.” They all began talking at once, Alex indignantly shouting that he was _bi_ , before Laf spoke over them again. “ _Tais-toi._ I will not miss a costume party.”

 

“It'll be fun.” Herc agreed after a moment, and Laf flashed him a grin. He could always rely on Hercules to take his side.

 

“Are we just driving, or going somewhere?” Alex asked with a grunt, clearly pouting, and Laf turned around again to face him (Herc mumbling “Seat belt” under his breath).

 

“There's a drive in movie theater near here. It's the perfect place to bring Herc’s new car considering you can't go without one.”

 

“Aren't drive in theaters just for horny teenagers?” John quipped and Laf smirked.

 

“Yes John. We’re obviously going to have an orgy. It's your official initiation into the group.” It was obvious he was joking, but John turned red regardless, making Lafayette cackle wildly.

 

John was an adorable little virgin. It was almost a pity, really, that he was so enamoured with Alex. _I could teach him a thing or two._

 

Lafayette wondered sometimes what was going on between his best friend and John, who had grown on him faster than his facial had when he hit puberty. It was obvious John liked Alex. It was obvious from that first day Alex had brought him home, Laf had just been too drunk to see it. _Don't lie, you saw it. You were just too drunk to care._

 

 _Granted,_ Laf allowed. _You had no way of knowing he was unlike all the other horny gay men of New York._

 

John may be inexperienced, but he wasn't innocent. Lafayette had walked in many times on his dorm room clouded by a smoky haze, Alex and John wheezing and laughing and stinking up the room. Laf didn't smoke. He had already gone through his phase of drug use, and being in a medicated bliss wasn't the half of it. His ex wife, who he tried to abstain from thinking of yet who haunted him constantly, had been a girl of rebellion. She was the perfect example of that preacher’s daughter stereotype. Her racist, uptight, cold, cruel parents never knew about the string of men she was fucking, Laf included. Or about the assortment of enhancements she was a user of. Lafayette was willing to do anything to impress her, to be near her longer than those other boys. It was shots of vodka, followed by a couple adderall pills, then some blow to sober them up, followed by more shots to bring them back down. And that was a typical weekday night.

 

Lafayette was amazed sometimes that he was still alive. _Just booze for me._ He always said when they offered. Even weed made his stomach churn, the blurred memories making him ill by association.

 

“What movie’s playing?” Alex asked, Herc answering before Laf could, the present returning to him gradually.

 

“Uh, that new movie Guardians of the Galaxy and something called Gone Girl. Double feature.”

 

“Gone Girl? You're shitting me.” John was gripping the back of Herc’s seat, smiling and almost squealing as he lifted out of his seat a little. “I fucking _love_ that book. I didn't even know it was a movie.”

 

“Neil Patrick Harris is in it.” Alex shrugged. “I don't like white guys but for him…” He whistled and Laf laughed, facing him once more.

 

“You don't like white guys?” He asked with mock surprise. “Then what ever _is_ your type Alex?” He, of course, knew the answer.

 

“Fellow Latios.” Alex gave him a cheeky grin and Laf watched the way John’s smile shifted, just slightly, and how his cheeks turned pink.

 

Lafayette knew Alex wasn't interested in dating anybody, they were completely on the same page in that aspect. But he couldn't tell if his roommate had the hots for John or not. John clearly wasn't interested in casual sex, so Alex had to realize that potential wasn't there. So what then? Alex had told Laf that he found John attractive. But he wouldn't have kept him around if he was trying to sleep with him. _Maybe he likes being fawned over._

 

 _Ah._ That seemed the most obvious answer. But no, it wasn't that simple. Laf watched through the mirror as Alex tugged at John’s hair, resulting in them shoving at one another playfully. The short lived wrestling match ended with them beaming at one another, holding eye contact just a little too long. Laf had witnessed this exchange between them too many times to count- as if one of them were about to kiss the other and then thought better of it.

 

He wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, if Alex had any idea what he was doing.

 

* * *

 

 

french toast has created a group chat

 

french toast: bonjour bitches

turtle guy: wow I'm so honored to be here

slice of ham: don't be he probably is just going to use this chat to get our opinion on his nudes

french toast: alex are you saying you don't enjoy rating my nudes

hercules m: laf who would you even send nudes to

french toast: ur mom bitch

slice of ham: boo herc ur chat name sucks

turtle guy: mine is super cool

turtle guy: bc I like turtles

turtle guy: a giant tortoise bit me once. It was euphoric

slice of ham: ur like one of those weird guys on the nature channel who eat bugs and sleeps on leaves

french toast: alex why are you watching the nature channel

BIG HERC: there I changed it happy?!

slice of ham: gross no

french toast: these capital letters are assaulting my eyes

turtle guy: too big. Maybe medium sized herc.

medium sized herc: I hate you guys

slice of ham: HAHAHAHAHA

french toast: it's okay I mean it still needs work

zero to hero: LOOK I LIKE THIS ONE AND I'M KEEPING IT

turtle guy: I love it!!! Reference to the best disney movie

french toast: kiss ass

slice of ham: hercules is ur favorite disney movie??

slice of ham: when lion king is right there???

turtle guy: fuck off

zero to hero: HERCULES IS THE BEST MOVIE ALEX

french toast: damn bae when you yell it turns me on

slice of ham: you guys need jesus

french toast: so what are you guys going as for the halloween party

zero to hero: its a surprise

slice of ham: JOHN CAN WE DO COORDINATING COSTUMES

turtle guy: you mean like couples costumes?

slice of ham: yes

turtle guy: yes

french toast: I'm barfing

zero to hero: if you need help sewing I'm your guy

slice of ham: oh my idea requires no sewing hehehe

french toast: I already hate it I hate you so much alex

slice of ham: :)

turtle guy: what's ur secret plan alex

slice of ham: text me john

french toast: *sext me john

slice of ham: are you filling in for me or are you asking john to sext you

french toast: john bby why don't you text me and find out

BIG HERC: maybe I do like this name better

french toast: for the love of GOD

 

* * *

 

 

Alex adjusted his hat one final time, spiked hair sticking out from under it, before grinning and winking at his reflection and turning to John.

 

“What do you think?”

 

“I think you look like a dork.” John laughed, adding a little more makeup to his cheeks.

 

They were in John’s dorm room, his roommate out taking his little sister trick or treating, so the duo was free to take all the time they needed getting ready.

 

Alex was dressed in a black shirt with a trademark blue jacket with white sleeves which Hercules had, in fact, had to help him sew. He wore green fingerless gloves and a red and white hat, hair slightly in his face. He hadn't gotten many television channels growing up, but he always was able to watch his favorite show, Pokemon. He was dressed as Ash, the main character, and John was his pokemon.

 

“Pikachu is too common.” John had argued while they were out shopping for costume supplies, Alex holding up the yellow fabric.

 

“But it's Ash and _pikachu._ That’s his pokemon.” Alex pouted and John rolled his eyes.

 

“I want to be squirtle. Squirtle is my favorite.”

 

“That's only because he looks like an actual turtle, isn't it?”

 

Alex had, however, acquiesced and he did not regret it. John looked fucking adorable. He was in tight blue pants ( _thank you Herc_ ) and a long sleeve blue shirt with the imprint of a turtle’s belly over his chest, complete with a shell backpack. Alex had the inkling that John had no real knowledge of Pokemon beyond the basics, as the costume resembled an actual turtle more than the mythical creature, but he was satisfied nonetheless. John had painted his cheeks rosy red like pikachu, a trait squirtle did not share, and Alex would be the last one to correct him when he looked so damn precious.

 

When they arrived at the house, following the address Laf had provided, both squirmed nervously outside the door. The house was huge and practically vibrating from the loud bass thumps emanating from within its walls. Colors flashed through the windows and laughter could he heard in the backyard, as well as the sound of glass shattering. A strange contrast to how dark and silent the front porch was. _It's like the two of us are about to enter the portal to another world._ Alex gulped, nearly dropping the plastic pokeball in his hand, which he would lose before the first ten minutes of crossing the threshold.

 

“My first real American party.” Alex said with a nervous grin, mirrored by John.

 

“My first party ever.”

 

Alex held out his hand, the fingertips left exposed by the glove feeling like ice, and John hesitated slightly before taking it, intertwining their fingers. Alex pulled them through the door and let it slam shut behind them.

 

The first thing that assaulted his senses was the smell. The noise was overpowering, sure, but the sharp acidic smell of alcohol, every kind of alcohol, seemed to be permeating the very air around them.

 

The next thing he noticed was Gilbert de Lafayette, a circle of people around him screaming and chanting, as he drained the remaining contents of a bottle of whiskey without pausing for air.

 

“God I hope that wasn't full when he started.” Alex mumbled, John staring wide eyed and lips slightly parted. _He really is that country boy in the big city stereotype._

 

“ _MON AMIES!”_ Lafayette had spotted them and shoved through the crowd, quickly replaced by a girl whose costume was just a bikini, and Alex gaped when he was able to actually see his friends ensemble.

 

Laf was dressed as a cheerleader, complete with short and tight _skirt_ and a red ribbon in his hair. He shook a pom pom in John and Alex’s faces, cackling wildly.

 

“Oh my god, you two are such fucking dorks. Holy shit. You're fucking pokemon.” He was laughing so hard he was gasping for breath and Alex turned red, matching the makeup on John’s face, and looked around.

 

“Shut up Megan Bloomfield. Where's Herc?”

 

“That was the gayest cheerleader reference you could’ve made.” Laf snorted, ignoring his question and facing John. “I didn't know you were a furry John and to be honest I'm a little uncomfortable.”

 

“Fuck off.” John shoved him with a laugh, barely audible under the music yet still charming. Laf took each of their hands and pulled them to the kitchen.

 

“Shots!” He shouted, despite it being far quieter in the crowded room, and handed them both miniature plastic dishes of jello, lime green.

 

John looked up curiously, as if wondering what to do with it, and Alex didn't want to fail to impress the boy by betraying that he also had no clue how to take a jello shot. He glanced quickly at Laf, who raised the shit to his lips and slurped it out in one easy gulp, and attempted to mimic the motion perfectly. John succeeded, swallowing the jello with a gag, and Alex had to scrape around the container with his tongue to fish it all out, feeling a little lightheaded from it’s sting. John was watching him when he pulled back, lips parted slightly, and Alex swallowed. _That look._

 

Maybe tonight, he should reconsider it all and make John his victim. _If we both get drunk enough…_

 

But suddenly John’s eyes shifted to something behind him and the boy let out an honest to god guffaw, hand lifting to cover his mouth in a choking burst of laughter, which Lafayette echoed.

 

Alex turned around and jumped backwards, an embarrassingly high pitched squeak of surprise escaping him. It was a huge figure, clad in an all black costume like a frightening giant version of a Five Nights at Freddy's animal monster. There was a felt face sewn on, towering above Alex, and catching sight of it made him laugh rather than feel vaguely terrified.

 

“Oh my god, Herc?” The thing shifted up and down in a weird nod, as it was without limbs, and he laughed, John’s face scrunched up in adorable confusion.

 

“He's No Face from _Spirited Away.”_ Laf explained and, to Alex’s horror and awe, Herc’s No Face costume split open just below the mask to reveal a creepy mouth, Herc’s face visible within it.

 

“Hey guys.” He grinned and Laf lost it, laughing so loud the entire room began to shift towards Herc, heads straining to see.

 

“It looks like it ate you.” Laf cackled and Herc grinned at him fondly.

 

“Can somebody like, feed me a shot? I can barely move my arms.”

 

Laf began to pour a beer down his mouth, half spilling it on him and half choking the poor boy, and Alex felt John grab his arm.

 

“Another one.” The boy was holding two shot glasses, filled this time with what looked and smelled like tequila, and Alex fixed him with a crooked smile.

 

“Bottoms up Laurens.”

 

They took two more shots together before a clamour sounded from the other room, Alex leaned around the corner to look with John on his heels, followed by a now very drunk cheerleader and Japanese spirit.

 

The cause of the sudden screeching halt of the music, the slurred and aggressive voices now clear and awkward, seemed to be from the far corner of the main room, just out of Alex’s line of vision. Grunting in frustration, he shoved through the crowd, dragging his friends, and stopped so suddenly that John crashed into him when he was in view of the comical sight.

 

The annoying frat boy who’s house is was _(Thomas something,_ he struggled to recall, already feeling the tequila much too powerfully) was arguing loudly with a pretty petite girl, hair short and bright blue, and it looked like he was losing.

 

“But babe-” The nasally voice exclaimed loudly, hand over the ipod connected to all the speakers. He mumbled something indecipherable, stumbling towards her, and the girl gasped and threw her drink in his face, stomping off.

 

The whole room released a deep _ooooh_ but at Thomas’ sharp look suddenly everyone was interested in the floor or ceiling, looking anywhere but at the boy who’s white shirt was now soaked red.

 

“I think the Pi Kappa Phi president just got dumped.” No Face’s mouth whispered and Laf elbowed him, a muffled _oomf_ making Alex giggle and shatter the tension.

 

Thomas let out a huff and turned the music back on, the crowd cheering, and he flashed everyone a dirty look before running outside after the girl.

 

“That,” Slurred Alex, draping an arm around John and maybe not so accidentally leaning in so that their faces were inches apart. “Is why I don't do relationships.” The boy laughed, like he was waiting for the punchline, and then his smile dropped along with Alex’s stomach as he caught sight of a figure at the top of the stairs.

 

“You….you don't do relationships?” John was mumbling somewhere in the distance. “Like, you don't date? At _all?_ ”

 

“Nope.” He said absently, dismissively as he took a step towards the stairs, dragging John along with him.

 

Descending the stairwell was an elegant girl, her costume a shimmering pink ballgown that somehow did not seem out of place, chattering away with a small horde of girls behind her. Almost every eye in the room had turned to her, as they had a moment ago for Thomas, only this time the attention was one of gasps and bated breath. Her makeup seemed to be made of fairy dust, catching every light, but perhaps, Alex reasoned, that was only the tequila soaked poet in him. She didn't seem to notice the crowd below gaping at her. Or perhaps she did notice, and was simply refusing the onlookers the satisfaction of seeing her blinding smile turn to grace them.

 

“Who is that?” Alex nudged a stranger standing next to him, who scoffed.

 

“That's Angelica Schuyler.” He said in a tone that very much implied Alex must be a hermit to not know this. But the tone switched to awe when the boy looked back up at her, now reaching the bottom floor with the rest of them. “She was president of Alpha Chi when she was a _freshman_.” He let out a low whistle. “She's like a goddess amongst men. And only a sophomore _._ ” _Well he's shitfaced._

 

“Yeah she’s in a club with us and she's kinda a bitch.” John grumbled at the exact same time Alex exclaimed:

 

“Oh she's from our club! I have to talk to her!”

 

He gave John a little smile, patting his arm, before tugging away and shoving through the crowd until he was in front of her, closer than he had intended.

 

“Angelica.” He said by way of greeting, and she merely cocked an eyebrow.

 

“Alexander.”

 

“You know me?” He frowned and she rolled her eyes, the group of girls around her giggling and making Alex shift uneasily from one foot to another.

 

“Yeah dumbass. We’re in Queers and Allies together and we met at a party in like, September. You didn't recognize me?”

 

He wasn't sure how to reply, nervous that they had evidently already met at a time when he was too drunk to remember it. That meant she had all the power, had heard all his lines before witout him even knowing which ones.

 

“Did you see that guy Thomas just get dumped?” He said, opting to change the subject, and to his surprise she smirked.

 

“Yeah he's a real jackass.” They smiled at each other briefly and he tilted his head, not sure how much was the alcohol but he felt a certain immediate camaraderie with her. He wondered if she felt it too. “So you’re Ash huh?”

 

“Hell yeah.”

 

He puffed up his chest proudly, feet stepping apart to pose, and tripped slightly over a crack in the floorboards. She giggled but it was a warm sound rather than a mocking one.

 

“Weird that we haven't talked much when we’re in the same club.” He said and she shrugged.

 

“You're usually too busy running your mouth to listen to anyone else.” It was clearly a tease, but it reminded him so much of what John had said to him when they first met that he had to suppress a flinch. _Oh my god, I just ditched him._ “You should join debate.” The beautiful girl nudged his shoulder, snapping him out of his temporary regret and returning the grin to his face. “With how much you go on and on, you'd fit right in and we could use you.” _I’d like you to use me._ He shook the thought away. Debate sounded right up his alleyway and he wouldn’t make it weird by sleeping with someone he hoped to make an ally of.

 

“Is that right?” Alex allowed his tone to creep on flirtatious and she smirked and one of the girls who hadn't drifted off into conversation, a pretty blonde, held out her hand.

 

“Hey Alex. I'm Monica.” The girl batted her eyes at him and Angelica patted his shoulder, starting to slip away with a knowing look.

 

“I'll see you next week Alex. Don't be shy about debate club.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek before sauntering off and he felt giddy with her approval. _The “goddess amongst men” kissed my cheek._ Something about it felr strangely familiar, like she had done it before, but he dismissed it as deja vu.

 

“Have you ever been in this house before?” Monica asked sweetly and he shook his head, forcing himself not to stare off after Angelica. “Then let me give you a tour. The bedrooms are upstairs.” His attentions immediately returned to Monica and he treated her to his most charming grin, taking her hand in his.

 

“Well lead the way then, gorgeous.”  
  


* * *

 

 

_I don't do relationships._

 

What had John been thinking all this time? He took a gulp of the jungle juice in his hand, shuddering as he swallowed, and tried to pretend the burn in his eyes was from the fireball that was far too present in the concoction. Yep, definitely from the fireball.

 

 _You're such an idiot._ He had thought with how much they had been hanging out, with how quickly he’d assimilated into Alex’s friend group, that they were sort of dating. John had thought that maybe it was an unspoken thing, where they both liked the other but weren't doing anything about it just yet. He had certainly been obvious enough around Alex, but had he been just imaging Alex flirting back? _He's just as friendly with Hercules, exchanges just as much banter with Lafayette. Where did he give you the impression he saw you as anything but a friend?_

 

God, but this wasn't just Alex not liking him back. This was Alex _never_ liking him back. Alex didn't _do_ relationships. He didn't do love or romance, just casual sex, as had been made very clear to John when the boy practically ran up the stairs with some blonde he had just met. _I could let him be my first. I could be casual sex, if it meant I could have him._

 

“Why the long face, Master Oogway?” Lafayette snickered, leaning against the wall beside John, who could barely make out him form in the darkness.

 

“Pretty sure he was a tortoise.” John mumbled, taking another sip and staring out into the dark dancefloor, wondering if Alex was kissing that girl right now. If his hands were in her hair. If- “Where's Herc?” He asked, squeezing his eyes shut tight to stop the pounding he felt all around and inside him.

 

“Oh he’s in the backyard. Some girls were begging him to take pictures with them so he’ll be busy for a while.” When John didn't respond he felt the drink lifted from his hands.

 

“Hey-”

 

“Seriously John,” Laf set their cups down, now as good as thrown into the void for how dark the floor was, and leaned in closer so they could hear each other properly. “What's wrong?”

 

“I like Alex.” He confessed, not really caring if Laf would run to tell the boy. It didn't matter anymore. “I _like_ him. And I thought…” He trailed off.

 

“Oh.” Laf sighed and patted his arm, tone far from surprised. “Do not take it personally John. He's into non committal sex. And something tells me that isn't what you want out of a relationship.”

 

“It could be.” He grumbled and Laf scowled.

 

“Oh shut up.” He slung an arm around John’s neck. “Don't compromise yourself for a _boy._ Especially not that shithead.” He joked, eyes flashing before returning to a more serious light. “Truly John, you have the better end of the deal. Those boys and girls he fucks-” John flinched. “Never see him again, really. You get his love. Alex loves his friends, and he decided you're one of us now. He doesn't let people in often, so you are _way_ more special than some one night stand.”

 

“Not in the way I had hoped.” He said softly, but Laf’s words had lifted the weight off his chest somewhat.

 

“C'mon.” Laf tugged at his hands, John groaning as the boy pulled him onto the dance floor. “We are going to dance away your sorrows and get even more drunk, _non_? Forget Alex.”

 

John started to protest but Laf ignored him, dancing with his hands up in the air and a carefree grin stretched across his face. It was contagious, and John found himself smiling and shimmying along with the boy. Eventually Herc came to join them, and even later, the dance floor half empty, Alex joined them. John danced with them all, laughing and giddy, heart full with the realization that he was no longer alone. That he had real friends.

 

With so few people on the dancefloor, their laughs echoed on the walls and seemed to pierce John. At one point, Alex took his hands and they just spun around until the alcohol made the nausea unbearable. But even then, John was smiling, clutching his stomach. His affection for Alexander was rolling off him in waves, thick and heavy and _powerful._ More powerful than the urge to heave his guts out or to sleep for an entire day and more powerful even than the yarn tied around his heart that pulled him to New York City had been. It was an emotion painted in hope and promise and a risk that John had never been willing to take. Always guarded, always alone, he had never quite let himself go. But he couldn't resist his heart leaping from behind a closed door to boldly on his sleeve when Alex’s eyes met his.

 

The next morning, he would not be able to remember much of the night. He wouldn't remember his talk with Laf, or Alex leaving, but he would remember that feeling of freedom and not being alone. The feeling of _us_ instead of just _me_. And it was one that wouldn't go away, even in the sobering light of dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enfin seul=alone at last
> 
> also if you live in california i will pay you 5 (five) dollars to come and kick my ass thanks


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update was quicker than I expected lmao
> 
> anyway if any of you can BELIEVE IT i had the best weekend ever because I went to go see daveed digg's group clipping (which I highly recommend. their latest album is sci fi themed which pertains exactly to my interests) and i got to MEET HIM and i had him write out a lyric i like to get it tattooed and [he tweeted me](https://twitter.com/DaveedDiggs/status/833941162952003586) so all in all it was just wild 
> 
> ENJOY THIS CHAPTER i love you and your comments like they make me laugh and fill me with such joy. thanks so so much for reading ♥♥♥♥♥

 

“I'm getting an apartment!” Lafayette practically threw himself onto Alex’s lap to thrust his phone at the boy’s face. 

 

Alex was hunched over a secluded table in the corner of the library, attempting to commit his textbooks to memory. He was astounded constantly (and a little creeped out) by Laf’s innate ability to find him, now matter which floor or table he was at.  _ I wonder if he has my phone tracked. He’s rich enough. Oh god, I’m like his pet dog. He probably put a chip in me so I don’t get lost. _

 

“What?” He looked up as Laf squished into the wide chair beside him, shaking his phone which was, once Alex held him still, showing a cute little apartment with brown walls and hardwood floors.

 

“Well, I'm getting  _ us _ an apartment. But you aren't allowed to move in until I'm done decorating because I want you to be blown away by my feng shui senses.”

 

“ _ What _ ?” Alex repeated, closing his book and raising his eyebrows at Laf. The boy huffed in annoyance.

 

“Don't be difficult Alexander and start on with the ‘oh but I have no money blah blah.’ I am a french aristocrat and your best friend so dammit we are getting this place because it is right by a subway station and it's in midtown and there’s a bar down the street that barely checks ID.” Alex smirked.

 

“How do you breathe between words sometimes honestly?” He said and Laf blinked before grinning.

 

“So is that a yes?”

 

“Wait, you were asking me something? Because it sounded like you were just telling me.” Laf rolled his eyes and took both of Alex’s hands, clearing his throat theatrically.

 

“Alexander Hamilton...will you move in with me?” Alex gasped and placed a hand over his heart.

 

“Why, this is moving so sudden and-ow!” Laf smacked him and he cackled, ruffling his friend’s hair. “Of course I will doofus. We won't have to hide our alcohol in water bottles or use a community bathroom.”

 

“I have some great memories puking my drunken guts out in that bathroom.” Laf was beaming from ear to ear, Alex thought his friend was glowing from excitement. “I am so glad you agreed because I already put down a deposit and talked to the landlord and I'm moving in next week.” He squealed and hugged Alex, who suddenly felt his smile slip as he hugged his friend back. A week was a very short amount of time. His entire life in America had been spent living in a dorm room.  _ Am I ready for the real world?  _

 

“How am I gonna sleep here without you?” Alex’s tone was teasing but there was something serious in his eyes. With the exception of school breaks and the occasional hook up, the two seldom slept apart.

 

“Think of it this way,” Laf rested his elbow on Alex’s head affectionately, having to lean his arm upwards slightly to do so but relishing in reminding his friend how short he was, even sitting. “You can bring home a different boy every night and not have to worry, for once, if they will not see me and become immediately infatuated, forgetting you completely.”

 

“I've never worried that.” Alex said dryly, shoving him off. “Besides I think I'm taking a break from all that.” Laf raised an eyebrow.

 

“Because of John?” He asked softly and was surprised by Alex’s sudden defensive frown. 

 

“Not because of  _ him _ ,” He growled and Laf’s heart ached a little at how he wouldn't even speak John’s name. “Because I….I'm tired of it all.” He shrugged and Laf sighed. 

 

“Whatever you say little lion.” He shrugged. “It's nice that you're having a vacation from hookup culture. More dick for me.” Alex laughed and shoved him again.

 

“Idiot. I just…” He grew serious once more, a mournfulness in him that made Lafayette ache. “I just feel like I'm ready. For love.” He said is with feigned casualness, immediately checking his phone, but Laf heard the raw optimism in his voice.  _ Its as if he and John have switched places. Well, if John wasn't a virgin and Alex didn't surround himself by people in love with him.  _

 

“You deserve love.” Lafayette said honestly and Alex looked at him gratefully.

 

_ But who's love do you want Alexander?  _ He frowned, watching the boy open a text from John and not respond, deleting the message immediately. 

 

_ We are the same, neither of us love ourselves. We are bold, sure, and arrogant as hell. But we have never before let ourselves love. And now that we have, it is to the unavailable. What does that say? _

 

“Hey,” His sudden and loud exclamation startled even himself, Alex jumping and looking up. “Wanna go get pizza and eat it on the roof? Who knows how many more times we can do that?” Alex grinned.

 

“That honestly sounds perfect. I won't miss this dorm but fuck, I'll miss that roof.” 

 

Laf hummed in agreement, dialing the campus pizza joint and side eyeing Alexander.  _ This new apartment is like a metamorphosis. We’re both going through a state change, growing and evolving, and moving is step one. Who will we be when we are finished? Will we like ourselves more, be ready for love? _

 

“Pineapple.” Alex mouthed at him and Laf’s smile was impossibly fond.  _ I hope some things never change  _   
  


* * *

 

 

“What are you doing?” Alex took his time finishing taping the poster to the classroom door, the room where his old debate club met, before turning around to face the speaker. Aaron Burr, face grim and arms crossed.

 

“Just advertising for my new club.” He grinned cheekily but Aaron’s expression didn't change, raising an eyebrow and reading the piece of paper behind Alex.

 

“Join our campus’ newest and most inclusive debate club.” The word  _ inclusive _ was in bold letters, slightly larger than the rest. Alex smirked.

 

“Go on. Read the name.”

 

“The Master….Debaters. You're obscene.” Alex cackled and tore off a strip at the bottom with his phone number on it, placing it in Burr’s hand.

 

“You're a pretty good debater Burr. You should jump ship to our team before yours crashes and burns. The school isn't going to fund a team with no one in it.”

 

“Your team consists of three people.” Alex clucked his tongue.

 

“How wrong you are Burr. There are, in fact,  _ four  _ of us.”

 

Earlier that day, thanks to Angelica and him plastering the school with posters and Thomas tweeting from his old fraternity’s Twitter page, most of the school had heard about their budding new debate club. Normally, scholarly events weren’t enough to create a mild buzz around campus, but most of the rumors spreading were thanks to its occupants. All three of them were notorious around campus, for various reasons. Angelica was terrifying and widely desired, mostly known due to her brief stint as president of Alpha Chi Omega while still only a freshman in her second semester of college. Alexander had engaged in several public verbal sparrings over the years, and everybody knew somebody who had slept with Alex. And, of course, Thomas Jefferson threw loud and large parties, the premier source of entertainment at Columbia. Due to their notoriety, the Great Debate Club Walk Out (as Alex referred to it) was at the top of the gossip chain. An instagram page dedicated to campus buzz had recently named Thomas and Angelica the school’s sexiest couple (Alex had whined that he was sexier than the both of them before Laf reminded him you had to be  _ in a couple  _ to be named), so they held even more sway than before.

 

Once the rumors really began to spread, students would become compelled to join the club from a mixture of curiosity, respect, and fear. But, on the afternoon of The Master Debater's first ever meeting, the trio was met with empty chairs.

 

“If anything,” Thomas said, leaning back on his couch and kicking his feet up on the coffee table. “We can get people to join off fear alone. Angelica and I, the power couple that we are, can threaten inferior freshman into joining.”

 

“Nothing morally ambiguous there.” Angelica had grumbled, leaning into his side.

 

“You don't think I could intimidate anyone into signing up?” Alex squeaked and both laughed, turning his face pink. “Well, you two are shit at it. Nobody’s here but us.”

 

“It's only the first meeting.” Angelica shrugged. “And it’s in Thomas’ house. Everybody hates Thomas unless there's a party.”

 

“Beats having to schedule a classroom.” Thomas shrugged, not even bothering to protest the fact that everyone hated him. Alex opened his mouth to say something else bitter and pessimistic, as they were all pretty obviously disheartened that it had been twenty minutes into the meeting with no takers, when the doorbell chimed.

 

All three jumped to sit up straight, exchanging looks of vague surprise and hope, and Alex sprang to his feet and raced over, swinging the door open. Standing on the doorstep, clutching her bag and chewing her bottom lip, was a beautiful girl with soft brown skin and pink dreadlocks down to her waist. She was large and soft looking, her posture shy but her eyes dangerously sharp. She smiled at Alex and he was half in love.

 

“Hi um, is that new debate club still holding open auditions? Sorry I'm late I just-”

 

“Of course! Come on in!” Alex cut her off by grabbing her arm and dragging her inside enthusiastically, Angelica and Thomas standing now and sporting their most charming grins. “I'm Alex. Alexander Hamilton. That's Angelica Schuyler and-”

 

“Thomas Jefferson.” Thomas took her hand and kissed it, Alex glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Angelica and watching her smile tighten.

 

“Theodosia.” She said in her soft voice. It was very high pitched, almost bird like, but soothing and sweet.  _ What a gorgeous name.  _ “Theodosia Bartow.”

 

“I don't know you.” Angelica frowned. “Why do I not know you?” Her tone was not unkind.

 

“I actually just transferred here this semester from Mercer University.” They stared at her blankly. “In Georgia.”

 

“How's the weather up there?” Thomas said, almost tripping over himself to take her bag for her. “In Georgia, I mean.”

 

“Um, cold?” She laughed and looked between them, smile growing. “I went to school here freshman year but had to move out of state for my family. And here I am again.” She shrugged, making the gesture seem charming, and took a seat, crossing her legs and making herself at home.

 

The rest of the meeting consisted mostly of the three getting to know each other rather than actual discussion of debate, Angelica and her getting along beautifully after Theodosia mentioned her fiance back in Georgia. Alexander thought that she was a perfect fit, and not only because she was as beautiful as a Disney princess. The girl possessed an incredibly sharp wit, seeming to read them all on sight, a talent he thought would work wonders in a competition.

 

“A fourth member?” Burr rolled his eyes. “Your roommate doesn't count. Doesn't he barely know English?” Alex smiled through gritted teeth.

 

“Lafayette thinks debate is boring. No, it's a new girl. A transfer. Her name’s Theodosia and she-”

 

“Theodosia?” He grabbed at Alex’s jacket, the smaller boy so surprised he nearly fell over, dropping several flyers. “Theodosia  _ what _ ? What's her last name?”

 

“Oh because Theodosia’s such a common name.” Alex stammered, shoving him off. He bit back a smirk at the desperation in Burr’s eyes, realizing how ruffled the boy was as he grabbed his papers from the ground, but his curiosity was too piqued for him to refuse to answer and watch Burr squirm. “It's Bartow.”

 

_ “Bartow. _ ” Burr mouthed, then seemed to become aware suddenly of his lack of composure and unclenched his fists, flashing Alex a tight smile. “Well, then I guess you do have some competition. I hear she's a...fierce spirit.” Burr choked out before turning away and entering the class, the door slamming shut behind him.

 

“Um. Okay.” Alex stared after him before shaking his head and returning to taping up posters all over the door, the incident quickly forgotten.

 

Forgotten until a few days later at their next meeting. Alex was running late, he had been helping Laf box up some stuff, and as a result came stumbling into the classroom in a rush before stopping dead in his tracks.

 

The classroom Angelica had secured for them was  _ full _ . Every seat was taken, many were even standing, and Angelica and Thomas were at the front of the room, grinning at him like they were his parents watching him come downstairs Christmas morning.

 

But the success of their posters and prodding wasn't what had Alex slack jawed. Sitting in the far corner of the room, hands folded neatly in his lap and looking everywhere except at Alex, was Aaron Burr.

 

“Well well well,” He said loudly, watching the boy’s face flush. “If it isn't Aaron fucking Burr come crawling to the Master Debaters. Someone knows who the winner is. I guess John Adams can't-”

 

“Oh shut up Alex.” Angelica interrupted him with an eyeroll but Thomas was covering his mouth, holding back laughter. The room turned to look back at Burr, shrinking into his seat, and Alex joined the others at the front.

 

“Now that was can finally begin,” Angelica said with a pointed look at Alex before smiling at the room. “I want to thank all of you for showing up today. I don't know how many of you are here because Thomas promised free drinks, and how many of you  _ actually  _ like debating, but I don't really care.”

 

Alex finally began to absorb how many bodies were in that room, noting several people he was almost  _ positive  _ he had slept with but couldn't be sure. Maybe if they took their clothes off.

 

“Right.” Alex clapped his hands together. “The thing is, we need about fourteen members to actually compete, so it isn't just the three of us talking. And the school will actually fund us if people show interest.” He began to slowly pace the front of the room, unaware of the action. “If any of you are pre law, this is a  _ really _ good way to practice your courtroom etiquette. Grad schools really like this kind of shit. Stuff.” He corrected at a cough from Angelica. “Same goes for PolySci majors and Comm majors and probably even Psych majors, like my man Burr back there.”

 

“How do you know my major?” He heard Burr mumble before continuing his little speech.

 

“Thomas here,” He patted Thomas on the shoulder and almost immediately wiped his hand off on his shirt. “Has a  _ fuck-ton  _ of debate experience.” Angelica only sighed, clearly resigned to Alex’s lack of filter. “He can teach you everything you need to know strategy wise. He's our president.” They hadn't really discussed their roles in the club, but Alex figured this went without saying. He preferred behind the scenes management anyway and, reluctant as he was to admit it, he genuinely thought Thomas deserved it. “Angelina is great at coaching at the actual etiquette part, and I can teach you-”

 

“How to run their mouths million words a minute?” Theodosia was late, blocking the open doorway completely so that the sun shone behind her, the light framing her and her pretty white sundress as if she were some ethereal being. Alex momentarily felt his tongue go numb in his mouth.

 

“Theo.” Angelica spoke warmly and Alex suspected that the two had been hanging out since their last meaning, as Ang addressed about only two other people with such warmth, Thomas not being one of them. “You're late.”

 

“Doesn't look like I was missed.” She stepped inside the room and smiled at everyone and Alex grinned at how many of the men shifted in their seats, sitting up straighter. All but Burr. “Hey y'all. You picked a great team.” She slid into a desk, resting her chin in her hand and fixing Alex with a friendly stare. “They won't disappoint you.”

 

Thomas took over from there, breaking the room up into groups and explaining fun little debate games, the kind where you weren't even aware you were learning. Alex paired up with Theodosia, partially because the girl was growing on him and partially because he could feel the heat of Burr’s gaze and it was delicious.

 

“Okay in celebration of today's success,” Thomas was back at the front for the end of the meeting, a trademark smirk plastered across his face. “And I know this is what you've all been waiting for, but Saturday I'll be having a party.” One kid _whoop_ ed and several others joined in appreciatively, Thomas not even bothering to silence them. _His parties_ ** _are_** _legendary._ Alex allowed, vaguely annoyed at how he was basking in it but he found the annoyance had grown fond rather than spiteful, and he wasn't sure what to make of that. “Feel free to bring your friends. It'll be kickass to thank y'all for coming to this meeting. Hope you'll come to the next one.”

 

“I love it when your southern accent slips out babe.” Alex teased as the students began to stand and mingle, trickling out the door, and Angelica laughed.

 

“That makes two of us Alex.” She said and Thomas gave him a face of mock disgust.

 

“Don't call me babe and ruin my reputation. I'm a ten and you're like, a strong three.”

 

“I am  _ definitely  _ the ten.” 

 

Thomas replied, tone snarky and taunting, but Alex’s repertoire had switched to autopilot as he watched Burr slink his way up to Theodosia out of the corner of his eyes, the girl blissfully unaware, tapping away on her phone.  _ If that creep tries picking up on her I swear to god… _

 

“Theo.” He heard Burr whisper in a voice Alex hadn't imagined him capable of. Burr’s exterior was stone cold, his strongest asset in debate, but Alex watched pained emotions dance openly across his face. Theodosia looked up and blinked, staring at Burr for several seconds before something odd tightened the corners of her smile. 

 

“Aaron.” She replied, and they just started at one another. By now, Angelica and Thomas had noticed Alex was paying them absolutely zero attention and followed his gaze, silently watching the tender scene unfold.

 

“You're back.” Although the trio was only a few feet away, Burr seemed unaware of their eyes. He seemed unaware of the world around them. “I thought….Georgia.”  _ Eloquent Burr. _ Alex thought distantly, wondering how they knew each other. Wondering, with vague jealousy, how  _ well _ they knew each other.  _ Well she's engaged so, it can’t be that. Plus Burr is a heartless bastard. He's probably allergic to love. _

 

“I'm back.” Her eyes were tracing his face furiously, as if scrambling to retain an image long lost. “I was going to call you but…” His eyes finally fell on the simple silver band on her finger and Alex visibly watched his walls stack back up, a flash of pain replaced by a mask of ice.

 

“Ah yes.” His smile was almost cruel. “How is old Jack?”

 

“You two know each other?” Alex wanted to smack Thomas for interrupting the soap opera, but blinked guiltily at the flash of embarrassment on Theodosia’s face. He wanted to be friends with this girl, and nosing about in her privacy wasn't the way to go about it. Even if she might have had a thing with (Alex shuddered)  _ Burr.  _

 

“No.” Burr stood up quickly, Theodosia watching him with surprise and a wistful remorse. Alex knew the look well, he had felt it deep inside him whenever he thought of John. “We do not.” 

 

He stormed off and Alex wanted to follow him and put his fist to Burr’s jaw because Theodosia looked like she was going to burst into tears, her hand covering her mouth as she stared after him.

 

“What was that?” Angelica asked softly and Theo just shook her head, breathing shakily.

 

“We uh, we knew each other before I moved away and had a falling out.” It was barely a summary and Alex wanted to dive into the details, the pain he felt from restraining himself was physically palpable. 

 

“Want us to kick him out?” Thomas growled, glaring at the doorway. “He's an ass anyway, I don't mind.”

 

“God no.” She laughed, seeming to break out of a trance. “But thank you. I'd much rather him stay in the club. Then I can force him to actually talk to me.” The girl was obviously attempting to lighten the atmosphere despite the way she was now absently running her fingers across her engagement ring. 

 

“You'll come to the party Saturday, right?” Alex gave her a winning smile, not knowing her but wanting to protect her. She had that round face of naivety that just made you want to look out for her, like Eliza.  _ Maybe that's why Angelica likes her. She needs someone to mother or she’ll probably explode. Oh. Guess that's why she likes Thomas too.  _ He smirked at his own analysis. 

 

“Sure.” She stood up from her desk, the four of them leaving together. “I don't drink but I like to dance.”

 

“You don't drink?” Thomas wrinkled his eyebrows and Angelica elbowed him.

 

“Not everyone has to get shitfaced to have a good time.” Ang reprimanded him and Alex couldn't help but remember how at Thomas’ last party he had witnessed her being hoisted into the air and chugging straight from a keg tap, out drinking the entire fraternity that was present. 

 

“It's not that.” Theodosia giggled. “My fiance, Jack, just doesn't like me drinking.” Angelina and Thomas nodded but something about her words rubbed Alex the wrong way.  _ Relax, you don't know anything about their relationship.  _

 

“Hey,” He said suddenly, unaware that he had interrupted Thomas’ anecdote about the first time he had ever gotten drunk. He had hard wired his brain to turn out the nasally voice more often than not. “You should be on cabinet.” Theo blinked.

 

“Oh I don't really know that much about debate-” She protested weakly, but Angelica had immediately perked at the idea, and there was no escaping the oldest Schuyler’s wiles. 

 

“No, that would be  _ perfect _ ! You don't have to know about debate, you could be our PR person. You ran the instagram for the hockey team at Mercer, right?” Theo’s nervousness seemed to fade at this reminder, her smile bright.

 

Suddenly the two girls were chatting away about flyers and events and maybe a  _ bake sale _ and Alex looked at Thomas helplessly. 

 

On an impulse of camaraderie, and one he felt that he would soon regret, he turned to the boy completely.

 

“Hey I'm getting coffee with Eliza right now. Wanna come?” He blinked in surprised and, in an endearing and totally whipped motion, Thomas turned to look at Angelica for permission. 

 

“That's fine babe.” She said dismissively, her and Theo hunched over the colorful girl’s phone.

 

“Uh, you sure?” Thomas mumbled and Alex felt incredibly charitable when he nodded, allowing the obnoxious boy to follow him to the library starbucks.  _ He's not half bad when he isn't talking about himself. _

 

slice of ham: hey update your sisters boyfriend is joining us

 

The two boys slid into a booth across from Eliza, buried in a rather thick book, who looked up and blinked in surprise.

 

“Hey Thomas.” She threw Alex a pointed look at he grinned.

 

“What? I texted you that he was coming.” She glanced at her phone and rolled her eyes but the girl was smiling. 

 

“Oh about five seconds ago, thanks.” She laughed and gave them both a warm look. “Wheres Angelica off to?”

 

“She made a shiny new best friend.” Thomas sighed with a pout. “Theodosia. Who's she's with now like,  _ all _ the time.”

 

“Oh she told me about her.” Eliza closed her book as Alex punched in his order-iced macchiato with three espresso shots- through the starbucks app. “Isn't that girl like, instafamous?”

 

“What?” Alex’s head snapped back up. “Is she?”

 

“Mmmhmm.” Eliza broke off a piece of the cookie beside her book and her own drink, a chai tea if Alex remembered correctly. “She does make up, I think? And her boyfriend is some famous youtuber.”

 

“Fiance.” Alex corrected, nudging Thomas as his phone alerted him his order was ready. “You getting anything?”

 

“No thanks.” Thomas pulled a thermos flask from his bag, a violent shade of lime green. “I've got my herbal tea. It's lemon.”

 

“Ya know, all of your traits separately aren't so bad but put together it's like someone handcrafted you to be the ultimate obnoxious sayings generator.” Alex said as he stood up. Thomas took a chug of his herbal lemon tea, flipping him off.

 

When Alex returned with his drink and a free cookie, thanks to a well timed wink at the barista, Eliza was flushed and Thomas’ smirk was wicked.

 

“What did you say to her?” Alex asked with no real venom, this time squeezing in beside Eliza. Thomas shrugged, grin remaining.

 

“I just asked what's going on between her and her roommate. That's all.”

 

“Nothing.” Eliza hissed, blushing furiously as Alex bit into his cookie and sprayed crumbs everywhere.

 

“Who's your roommate?” He asked around a mouth full and Thomas made a face of disgust.

 

“She bunks with Maria Reynolds.” Thomas widened his eyes emphatically, waiting for Alex to catch on. He only frowned, drowning half his drink in one gulp.

 

“You go through food like a bulldozer.” Eliza teased before sighing, cheeks still pink. “You've met her Alex. She punched you at a party.” When Alex’s expression remained clouded, Thomas let out an enormous laugh.

 

“Oh my god. He's been punched by so many girls at parties he can't remember!” It was Alex’s turn to blush.

 

“Okay one, that's not even true. I just get drunk often enough that I can't remember!” He exclaimed, realized rapidly that this declaration didn't make him look any better. Thomas snickered. “And two, you are literally the king of getting drinks thrown in your face so.” Alex made a vague but violent hand gesture and the other two snorted.

 

“Not anymore.” Thomas leaned back, hands behind his head in an expression of false machismo. “Not since Eliza’s sister managed to tie me down. Lucky woman.” Eliza pulled out her phone.

 

“Oh, lemme just tell her you said that real quick-”

 

“Hey wait!” Thomas dropped his arms and the act instantaneously, reaching forward for her phone, and Eliza and Alex both giggled. Thomas coughed and pulled back, drinking his tea to hide his obvious embarrassment.

 

“Oh wait.” Alex snapped his fingers, a blurry memory of a bloody lip returning to him. “Long hair? Red lipstick? Got like, a real jazzy voice?” Eliza laughed but for some reason this description had the pink returning to her cheeks.

 

“Yeah. That's her.”

 

“Really hot?” Thomas asked with feigned innocence, Eliza nodding instantly, and he burst out in laughter. “Oh so it's  _ true. _ ”

 

“Am I missing something?” Alex asked and Eliza huffed.

 

“ _ Thomas  _ thinks my roommate has a crush on me.”

 

“Now hold on,” Thomas held up a finger. “I did not say crush. I said she wants to fuck you.”

 

“Thomas!” Eliza looked around, as if the aforementioned girl would materialize, and Alex held back a laugh of his own. “She doesn't see me like that.”

 

“Not what Angelica told me.” He hummed thoughtfully and Eliza looked about to burst. To save her pride (and because he lived for gossip) Alex asked for her.

 

“What did Angie say?” He asked and Thomas shrugged, pretending to be fascinated suddenly with his lemon herbal tea. Eliza rolled her eyes.

 

“I can just text her you know.” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

 

“Then why don't you?” At her silence his smug expression stretched and he laughed. “Fine, Ang said like last year Maria had a crush on you. But then Angelica set her straight by telling her that  _ you _ were straight.” Eliza and Alex’s eyes widened in unison, the girl letting out a little offended gasp.

 

“She did  _ what _ ?” Thomas and Alex turned to her.

 

“Well, aren't you straight?” Alex asked, frowning because on one hand he had almost dated this girl but on the other hand, he didn't mind picturing her and Maria as an item. He didn't mind at all. Eliza reached for her cookie, her fingertips hitting the empty wrapping, and stole a piece of Alex’s, munching nervously while he made a whine of disapproval.

 

“I earned that cookie.” He mumbled as she took another piece.

 

“Well, when did you two realize you were... _ bisexual _ ?” She whispered the word in the tone a first grader might when asking about S-E-X. Alex was briefly amused before her words hit him and he nearly broke his neck turning to face Thomas.

 

“Wait,  _ you _ are bi?” The smirk Thomas gave him was sinful.

 

“Why Alex, looking to add another notch to your bedpost?” Alex huffed and Thomas laughed, looking slightly embarrassed. “Yes asshole, I'm bi. Didn't Laf ever tell you…” He suddenly snapped his mouth shut and Alex was envisioning wrapping his fingers around a certain French sex loving deviant.  _ You let me have sex with you after you had sex with Thomas?! Now I've basically fucked him too. And that's the nastiest thing I can possibly imagine. Sleeping with Thomas should be a challenge on Fear Factor.  _

 

Thomas shuddered, making the same connection, and Eliza brushed her hair out of her face.

 

“You two talk about sex way too much. There's more to life you know.” Thomas and Alex met eyes across the table incredulously.  _ Cute theory ‘Liza.  _

 

“So you think you might be bi?” Alex’s tone was gentle but serious, facing her, and she shrugged sheepishly. 

 

“Um, yes? I mean...I've never kissed a girl or anything. But I think that I have a crush on one.”

 

“Maria.” Thomas said triumphantly and Eliza threw the remnants of Alex’s cookies at him, the smaller boy’s weak protests interrupted as he checked his phone. Three texts, one of which made his heart stop in his chest.

 

angel of music: okay so theo made our debate club an instagram. Mass text all your booty calls to follow it

 

french toast: hey so i finished moving all my shit to the apartment early. Do you want me to sleep in the dorm tonight with u or are you good for like three days alone

 

john tortoise: are you going to ignore me forever? 

 

Alex shut his eyes, debating briefly between just deleting John’s text or blocking his number altogether. But he couldn't bring himself to do either. 

 

angel of music: okay so theo made out debate club an instagram. Mass text all your booty calls to follow it

slice of ham: you would kill to be on that list

slice of ham: also control ur boyfriend and ur sister. one is being a massive asshole and the other keeps stealing my cookie

angel of music: asshole is literally just his personality trait alex you have to adapt

angel of music: and I'm sure you didn't buy the cookie anyway mr. ‘lemme fuck the barista for a free latte’

slice of ham: ur fucking welcome I got us free coffee for like a week

 

french toast: hey so i finished moving all my shit to the apartment early. Do you want me to sleep in the dorm tonight with u or are you good for like three days alone

slice of ham: I cant come stay in apartment with you yet???

french toast: NO STUPID BOY I must finish decorating first

slice of ham: then stay with me tonight

french toast: I could be out getting laid

slice of ham: your thirst is apocalyptic

slice of ham: speaking of laid you would tell me if you have ever fucked jefferson

slice of ham: right?

french toast: english is such a hard language to write in oh dear I'll just text you later

slice of ham: I speak french too

 

john tortoise: are you going to ignore me forever? 

slice of ham: like you ignored me all winter? 

 

“I told Angelica on you.” Alex said to Thomas absently, staring at the screen until he got the notification that John had read his message, then quickly put his phone away. Thomas was looking at his own phone.

 

“And Lafayette too apparently. Thanks for that.” He said dryly, before pulling up Theo’s new instagram page to show off.

 

Alex feigned listening intently as Thomas explained to Eliza all about the beautiful new girl, not omitting the evident drama with Burr, and nodding at all the appropriate moments. For once, he was grateful at how easily Thomas could dominate a conversation and leave no room for comments, as he really didn't feel like speaking. 

 

_ I just want everything to go back to normal.  _ He thought miserably, then chased the thought away.  _ And what was normal, Alex? John pining over you and you stringing him along? It's never been normal. You've never been platonic and you know it. _

 

He wondered if they ever could be, but Alex already knew the answer. He just hadn't decided what it meant quite yet.

 

* * *

 

“Wait, London?” John nearly dropped his sandwich, a piece of lettuce sticking out from between his lips rather endearingly. “Herc is going to  _ London _ ? When?”

 

“I think after summer.” Laf took a dainty bite of his own sandwich, leaning back on the blanket with a sigh. “You should ask him, mon amie.” Laf’s prodding was gentle but intentional.  _ Maybe you need to stop distancing yourself John. _

 

“The group is falling apart.” The boy mumbled and Laf bit back a sharp retort.  _ That's not my fault, now is it?  _

 

Lafayette finished his sandwich and leaned back completely, staring at the ceiling of his bare and cold apartment. All he had to eat thus far in his new residence, which he planned to decorate to the nines, was some bread and peanut butter. Not even a knife, as he didn't think that far ahead. He had just been using the silver foil lid of the jar to spread it.  _ Veggie boy was smart enough to bring his own snack.  _

 

Lafayette tried his damndest to pass through life without grudges, believing wholeheartedly (and in Alex’s opinion, somewhat naively) that bitterness only served to harm oneself. Yet, he could not fight the resentfulness he had developed towards John. John, who had not only readily and instantly dropped Alex for his boyfriend (which, although he would never say so to Alex, Laf understood. It was not as if Alexander were a virtuous saint, and it was not as if he was the type to respect that John was no longer available) but who had also forgotten his other friends completely.  _ You left Herc and I too John. You left  _ **_me._ **

 

_ Well Gilbert ole boy. Bitterness only spreads it's roots if you let it grow. (god I need to stop reading Herc’s poetry) _

 

“John,” Laf cleared his throat, arms stretched behind his head. “Not to ruin the mood or anything, but it's pretty fucked up how you just ditched all of us for Nathan.” He felt the boy stiffen beside him.

 

“I had to.” Was the automatic response after several beats. “He was my  _ boyfriend _ Laf.”

 

“Alex, I get.” Laf mumbled. “But last time I checked, Nathanael never asked you to forget about Herc and I.”

 

“I didn't. I still saw you guys.  _ See _ you guys.” He corrected and Laf sat up with a huff.

 

“Yeah, if  _ I  _ text you first. You never hit us up anymore.” John threw his hands up defensively.

 

“You were the one who pushed me to date Nate in the first place! I don't get why you're suddenly jealous that-”

 

“Jealous?” Laf looked at him sadly. “John I just  _ missed  _ you.” John looked at him and blinked, his demeanour shifting entirely.

 

“Shit.” He said softly. “I'm sorry Laf. I guess I just got edgy because nobody likes to know they're a shitty friend.”

 

“You aren't a shitty friend.” Laf said sternly, unscrewing the peanut butter and just dipping the white bread straight into the jar, cutting the middleman out entirely. “It was the honeymoon phase. I get it. But I missed you.”

 

“No, I was a shitty friend.” John said, eyes serious, before the look quickly melting away into a warm smile. “But I missed you too.”

 

“I think,” John went on after a moment, Laf intensely debating whether or not it would be practical to just use his finger as the peanut butter knife while simultaneously weighing the merits of maybe actually buying some silverware before the end of the day. “My separation from Alex was necessary.” He sounded like he was trying to convince both himself and Laf. “I needed space to get over him, or our friendship might have fallen apart. Ya know?” Laf looked down, unable to resist a bitter little jab.

 

“It might have fallen apart anyways John.” The boy looked at him, hurt, and Laf quickly stood up. “I'm going to use the bathroom and then we can continue our wonderful tour.”  _ Because you won't be seeing much of this place when Alex moves in.  _

 

Lafayette did not like to play sides, as he loved both John and Alex dearly and deeply. But perhaps since he had been around Alexander more, had witnessed how the fallout had ruined the boy, he found himself more partial to consider the feelings of his roommate.  _ Be fair Laf. Alex has you and Herc and Eliza and Angelica and, weirdly, Thomas. Who does John have? _

 

When he stepped out of the bathroom, which was spacious  _ and _ came with a beautiful white tub (Laf was at a perfect tie as to whether he was more excited to take bubble baths or have steamy hookups in it), John was no longer on the blanket spread out in the empty living room. Laf crossed the hall and found him standing in what would be Alexander’s bedroom, fingers tracing the curved white walls.  _ Funny, I never told him whose room this is gonna be. _

 

“He'll love it here.” John said mournfully, and Laf wanted to just tell him everything. 

 

He wanted to shatter the dam between the two with his words and let it all out in the open.  _ He loves you too, you great idiot. And I'm starting to think that he always has. He wants you and you both need to get your heads out of your asses. Because if there was someone I loved that I thought for one second loved me, not all the cosmic powers could keep me from them. _

 

“He will.” Lafayette said simply, watching John.

 

_ They have to figure it out on their own.  _ It was a disheartening thought, as the two could be enormously idiotic, but Laf was hopeful regardless. Since he himself had fallen in love, he tended to believe it would always triumph.  _ Plus,  _ he let his eyes roam down John appreciatively.  _ If they get together and have been dating a while, maybe I could talk them into a threesome.  _

 

“Do you think he'll ever forgive me?” John asked, but Laf didn't think he was talking to him. Not really.

 

“I do.” He answered regardless. “As soon as you forgive yourself.” John laughed.

 

“Oh Laf. You have  _ no idea _ how into him I was.” He was blushing with embarrassment, laughing into his hands. “I mean, oh my god, I have  _ playlists  _ about him.”

 

“Stop.” Laf couldn't resist the giggles pouring out of him. “I have to know about these playlists.”

“This one from freshman year,” John had to hold himself up, palm flat on the wall, and wait until his laughter died down so that he could finish his sentence, barely breathing. “Had Taylor Swift's You Belong With Me as the most played song.”

 

Lafayette was literally bowling over with wheezing laughs, clutching at his sides. He was already about to explode from laughter when, to his utter amusement, John began to  _ sing.  _ Each lyric broken by laughs.

 

“You're on the phone with your girlfriend, she's upset. She's going off about something that you said-” He broke off, running out of air, and Laf patted his arm.

 

“I can literally see you crying in your dorm room about-” His eyes were watering. “- how  _ you _ should be with Alex because you don't wear short skirts.” The two’s laughter filled the room.

 

“I hate you.” John finally calmed down, wiping his eyes, and again Lafayette was struck with the desire to tell him.  _ I am the only one with all the cards, I could write the story for them. I could change the narrative. _

 

He could see it play out beautifully; he tells John that Alex is in love with him. John realizes his love for Alex never died, and earns his forgiveness in some sweeping romantic gesture. They would kiss and the group would be back together and, in this perfect little scenario, Herc would stay and the two would get engaged and Laf would be Alex’s best man and godfather to their charming children. 

 

_ This isn't a romantic comedy and besides, eventually they would move in together. And where would that leave you? _

 

“At least that's behind me now.” John said with an amused  _ tsk _ , and Laf smiled wistfully.

 

“Yeah, it's in the past now.”

 

* * *

  
  


french toast: bonjour professor!

french toast: I have recently acquired a new (and very nice might I say) apartment and decided to have a little dinner party! Are you free saturday night?

George: I have dissertations to grade, yours among them, but I can consider making some time

George: Do I know anyone who's attending?

french toast: you know me

french toast: let me be more clear these american phrases confuse ne

french toast: by dinner party I mean you and I

 

* * *

 

_ You need to be careful. _

 

George Washington was not a reckless man. Everything he had done in his career and personal life alike, however risky he actions might appear to be, were done with caution and logic.

 

He was a gay black man who had lived the majority of his life not even aware of his sexuality. He had been raised conventionally and conservatively in the care of his white father, mother out of the picture, with his white brothers and sisters. Any feelings he had possessed of being an outcast, being the literal black sheep, had to be squashed quickly in order to be heard, to survive. He had lived most of his life in the passenger seat, watching the events unfold as if from behind a television screen, not living them. In high school, He received all A’s and B’s. He was on the school's successful football team and in the off season, he played basketball. He was never popular, but he was never bullied either. He graduated from a perfectly average youth into a perfectly average adultship. George studied law in college because his father had. He had no real passion for it, but he had nothing particularly against it either.

 

He dated Martha Dandridge because she was a nice white girl from a nice white family and she never asked him to talk about himself, never challenged him to grow. She was comfortable, the quiet girl who would read with him in his dorm room while he stayed up late nights studying for the Bar Exam. He loved her. He loved the way she was supportive of him, the way she never argued or had any ambitions of her own, and he loved the way she smiled. Martha was perfectly content in whatever he wanted, as he was perfectly content to live out the life his father wanted. George considered himself honorable, a gentleman, so it wasn't until they married, in the winter of 1994, that they had sex.

 

It was then, at twenty two years old and for the first time ever in his life, that George felt something was wrong.

 

He felt something missing, and he felt it  _ deeply _ . Something large and inherent and that should be obvious. Television taught him that he was not adventurous enough, that you needed passion in your life in order to be happy, that just love wasn't enough.  _ But I have it all _ . He would think to himself as he lay awake at night in the house his dad bought them in Virginia, just down the block from his own house.  _ I have the job. The wife. The career.  _ He had rolled over to look at his wife’s sleeping form. She was no great beauty, but George often found himself gazing at her, especially in the darkness of the very late night or very early morning.  _ Children? _

 

George felt that he was too young for children, at least that's what he told himself and Martha. In truth, he couldn't picture himself as a father. He wanted a son in theory, a little boy he could teach to swim and watch the football games with. But the thought of another house a couple blocks down the road where his adult son, another lawyer, would live with his own quiet wife filled him with a dread he couldn't name. 

 

So, to cure this feeling of wrongness that had nested in the pit of his stomach, he quit his job at the law firm.

 

“Martha.” He had announced one day at dinner, mashed potatoes and meatloaf, looking up at the woman sitting across from him at the opposite end of the table. “I quit today. At the firm.” He’d watched her, waiting for some reaction. She’d nodded, slowly chewing her mouthful before dabbling her mouth with a napkin in precise little pats and speaking.

 

“Well, we have plenty of money in savings.”

 

“I think I want to go back to school.” He couldn't look away from her, waiting for some semblance of an emotion to cross her face. “To study teaching.”

 

“Alright.” She gave him a little smile, like a puppeteer had pulled the strings attached to the corners of her lips. “I hear the Brown elementary school is hiring.”

 

“It will take several years.” She took another bite. “And I want to teach at the college level.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Maybe in New York.” Martha loved Virginia. Her whole family was here, her whole childhood had been here.

 

“Alright.”

 

“Do you love me?”

 

“Yes.” No surprise danced across her features, no hesitation or alarm at the change of subject. Just an automatic response, accompanied by that little smile, and then a return on concentration to her food.

 

They had finished dinner in silence after that, as usual.

 

And so George had gone back to school, earning his teaching degree with ease and speed, finding that his love of the material made it easy to study. Law had been hard, this was second nature. It took him seven years to become an established professor, teaching at the local community college where his dad had scored him a secured position. 

 

He still found himself staring at the ceiling and Martha at night, unable to sleep.

 

“Hey.” The professor who taught across the hall from him, Johnson, showed up in his office one evening. “Some of us are going for drinks tonight at Cups. Wanna come?”

 

“Not tonight.” The man who’s first name George did not and would never know scoffed.

 

“You never come out with us George. C’mon. Will one night kill you?”  _ It very well might.  _

 

“I don’t go out.”  _ Or drink. Or dance.  _

 

“No shit.” The man had patted his shoulder affectionately, as if they were old friends, and George sighed submissively. It wasn't in his nature to say no, and his curiosity had been piqued.  _ Maybe that's what's missing, the club scene. _

 

He hadn’t changed clothes, the thought hadn't occurred to him, so he stood in the low lit club with the other male teachers in a full suit, not aware enough of how he stood out to feel embarrassed.

 

“Here.” Johnson, who he stuck near for lack of knowing anyone else, put a drink in his hand. A vodka tonic that tasted disgusting. George liked wine and whiskey and even then, sparingly. But he drank the entire glass with the dual intention of loosening up and impressing the others, all older than him.

 

The group sat on barstools, chit chatting and drinking while George listened compliantly and drank whatever Johnson gave him. He was more than a little tipsy when Johnson asked him out back for a smoke. George agreed not because he smoked, but because he didn't want to be alone with the others. He would later remember thinking distantly that he couldn't recall ever seeing Johnson smoke either.

 

When the back door shut behind them, the two alone on in a little balcony overlooking an alleyway, Johnson made no motion to reach for a cigarette or a lighter.

 

“Thank god.” The man, moonlight barely illuminating his face, laughed drunkenly. “I thought we’d never be alone.”  _ What? _

 

And then Johnson had kissed him. 

 

To George’s eternal shame, his initial reaction was one of violence. It took him a moment, alcohol making his senses fuzzy, to register the situation. But once Johnson moved his hands to George’s chest, the man awoke from his frozen state and jerked back, punching his colleague in the jaw. Johnson had stumbled backwards and cursed, George looking down at his fist with a panic that furrowed deep in his stomach.

 

George hadn't even waited to hear the man’s hasty explanation or offer one of his own, he had turned and ran, pretending that the sickening feeling surrounding him of disgust and nausea was from the vodka.

 

_ I never flirted with him! I never have him any sign of interest! What made him think I was gay? What about me made him think that I was gay?  _ The question, encircling him several times mockingly on that walk home, was the catalyst for what would be a long night of vomiting.

 

George had quit the next day, unsurprisingly with no complaint from Martha, and decided to move just outside of New York City. He would go when the year was up, he decided. His father had just passed away, and he needed to attend to the funeral proceedings, being the oldest, and sort out his inheritance.

 

He would spend the nights he lay awake now filled with seething and all consuming hatred for Johnson. Because no matter how he denied it, no matter how he shut his mind to it, now he knew.

 

He was gay.

 

And it was that man’s fault. That man for making him aware of what he had always been in the dark about. He had been content not knowing. Sure, he wasn't exactly happy. But he wasn't unhappy either. And now he was haunted. Haunted with knowledge he hadn't asked for. 

 

Martha probably wouldn't even care. She would chew her food when he told her, flash him a little smile and a little “alright” and then suggest maybe they adopt. George couldn't do it. He could remain comfortably in the closet his whole life, but he couldn't go through the motions. Not anymore, and not with Martha.

 

So he left her. He left her with the house and on time alimony payments and never looked back from New York, where he immediately landed a teaching position at Columbia. One his father hadn't bought him, one he had truly earned. 

 

And, at thirty years old, he had started his life over.

 

George was forty three now, and for the entirety of his life, he had been careful. He kept his personal life under wraps, he never broke any hearts, he never got attached. His friendships were tenuous and mostly business related. He went to sleep at nine pm every night after Jeopardy reruns and slept peacefully, never staring at the ceiling or the empty space in the bed beside him.

 

_ You need to be careful. _

 

Yet, despite all of this, these were the words that rang through him when he thought of the boy with long hair and the french accent.  _ Gilbert Lafayette.  _

 

He had seen him around the school with Alexander before this school year, but they had never spoken. And then, suddenly, their office meetings had been the highlight of his week. The price of not being careful was a hospital trip unlike anything George had ever experienced.

 

So he had drawn lines with the boy, as clear and as coldly as he could manage. George told himself it was for Lafayette’s sake. He knew that look in the boy’s eyes all too well. It wasn't the first time he had been the subject of student fantasy, just the first time a  _ male _ student had so obviously had a crush on him. He had never been able to relate to tales of temptation and frustration as he felt nothing looking at blushing young women, touch lingering in his arm while they asked seemingly innocent homework questions.

 

_ You need to be careful. _

 

George had never faced the potential struggle of a student with a crush on him where there was possibility for George to reciprocate. So he knew that he needed to be as careful, and as guarded around this boy, this  _ child _ , as he could.

 

But George experienced a sensation completely new to him every time the resolution chimed through him.  _ I don't want to be careful. _

 

He had to be. And would continue to be, of course. He wouldn't allow some miniscule spark of attraction cost him his reputation. Worse still, he wouldn’t risk the boy. It was George’s responsibility to put his foot down, as of  _ course  _ if he showed interest, Lafayette would reciprocate. 

 

But all his life, George had been void of adventure and fire and vivacity, the very three things that composed Lafayette. The boy was impossible to read and intriguing, where his ex wife had been an open and bland book. A quick and easy read, and George wanted challenging material. 

 

Lafayette was attractive to George in more than just the typical, physical ways that people felt attraction. Lafayette represented everything he had ever wanted and had never been allowed to have, everything just beyond his reach. He was jealous of Lafayette more than anything. Jealous that he was so young and so ablaze. George wished that they had met both at the same age. Lafayette would have ignited George, would have changed the course of his life. Had they met as the same age, George was certain their love would be the stuff of legends; all passion and wanderlust and devotion.  _ If we were the same age, he would have held my heart in the palm of his hand. _

 

_ Ah but, old man, you are not the same age. You lived through your twenties already. You had your chance for greatness, and you squandered it. You were dull and passive. Lafayette hasn't even begun to live yet. You have no place in his life. It would be only selfish. _

 

But George wasn't selfless enough to resist befriending the boy. Truly, he did not have many friends. None he would consider close. He wouldn't mind spending time with the boy, imparting wisdom, perhaps living vicariously through him. 

 

George had lived until he was twenty nine, nearly thirty years old, suppressing the fact that he was gay. He had completely obliterated any hint of it that existed in his psyche. He had refused to ever acknowledge it, or even be aware of it. If he could ignore an integral part of himself for more years than he had been alive, then George was confident he could suppress the slight way the sun seemed to shine brighter when Lafayette was around. He could choose to ignore the way the boy’s eyes lingered on him and, even more importantly, he could choose to not let his linger in return. George was the epitome of self control, and he had most of his life as evidence.  _ I can indulge and be his friend. I have earned as much. And I can be careful. It's what I do best. It's practically the only thing I know how to do. _

 

_ The careful man and the careless boy can be friends. Perhaps we can even each other out. _

 

And so, deleting any and all minuscule traces of non platonic emotion he might feel, George responded to Laf’s text.  _ Not Laf, Gilbert. Lafayette _ was trouble, a temptation.  _ Gilbert _ was his student, older than most and a potential friend in a lonely world.

 

_ Just keep the two separate and you're safe. I can be careful. I can be careful. _

 

George: that sounds fine Gilbert. Should I bring anything? A bottle of wine?

french toast: Just bring yourself :)

 

_ I can be careful. _

 

He almost believed it.

 

* * *

 

“I need the place to myself Saturday after five.” Laf said by way of greeting, arms crossed, and Alex snorted.

 

“Hello to you too, beloved roommate.” He said dryly, dropping his box to the floor unceremoniously. Laf had insisted on unpacking alone, including all of Alex’s things save a few items of clothing. It was a bit annoying, as Alex felt indebted to his friend enough as is, but he couldn't resist a low whistle as his eyes swept the place.

 

The decor was all soft colors, muted blues and light browns, and everything looked  _ welcoming. _ There was a little nook by the window, overlooking the city, that Alex already envisioned himself curled up in with a book and some warm coffee. Laf’s taste was impossible to dislike, and Alex distantly thought maybe the boy should consider a career in interior design, should his future in politics not work out. But his admiration was short lived when he realized the velvet couch to his left was  _ brand new. _

 

“Lafayette how much did you spend on all this?” His accusatory gaze made the man’s posture stiffen, chin thrust forward unapologetically. 

 

“It is our  _ home _ and I spent what I felt necessary to make it  _ feel _ like a home.” His gaze softened suddenly. “Alex c'mon. Neither of us have ever had any real home in America. Just that fucking dorm room. This is  _ nothing  _ to me, why not just enjoy the finer things in life, like the thread count on the sheets I bought you?” Laf, as if to prove a point, sprawled out on the couch, his long body not even occupying it entirely. Alex tried not to resent him for how casually he mentioned it all being  _ nothing _ to him, money wise.

 

“Wait, why do you need the apartment Saturday night?” Alex frowned, squeezing in beside him on the ridiculously comfortable sofa and soaking in the fact that he  _ lived  _ here now. “Aren't you coming to the Master Debaters’ party?” Laf rolled his eyes.

 

“I'll have to pass on a bunch of debate geeks getting drunk, thanks.” He teased, then averted his eyes, hands fidgeting with the hem of his coat. “I uh, invited George over for dinner.” Alex blinked.

 

“As in  _ Washington _ ?” Lafayette didn't answer and Alex couldn't contain a squeak of astonishment. “What the fuck Laf? I thought you were trying to get over him?”

 

“Oh, like you are trying to get over John?” His tone was not cruel but his eyes were sharp. “You don't get to lecture me on this Alex. Not when the two of you keep doing this little dance.” Alex’s mouth felt dry.

 

“What dance?” Laf sighed.

 

“You hurt each other and use each other and it's just been this cycle lately of who hurt who, and who's the victim and who's the selfish one. You two are best friends Alex. Just kiss and make up.” He caught himself with a slight smirk. “Well, maybe not  _ literally  _ kiss since that hasn't worked for either of you.” Alex hit him, trying to look pissed and failing adorably. 

 

“I guess we’re all selfish. Well, except you.” He shoved Laf playfully. “Furnishing our cute ass apartment.” He was trying to lighten the atmosphere but Laf’s expression darkened.

 

“I am not  _ not _ selfish.” He mumbled and Alex arched an eyebrow, his friend grinning shyly. “I have a confession and you are going to hate me.”

 

“Oh my god,” Alex covered his face with his hands. “You and Thomas dated, didn't you?”

 

“Jesus, no.” Laf laughed, smirking. “We definitely fucked though.” Alex hit him again, playfully pounding his chest until that anxious look returned to his friends face.

 

“Just tell me Laf. Honestly, if I haven't seen the worst of you by now, who the fuck has?” Laf snorted then sighed, smile fading.

 

“Uh. Okay. Back in France,” He closed his eyes for an instant, words rushing together. “I hooked up with Adrienne.” Alex stared blankly.

 

“Hooked up as in you two made out, or hooked up as in-”

 

“We had sex.” Laf blurted, meeting Alex’s gaze, and the boy just gawked at him.

 

“I was with you the whole time! When did- oh my god. When I feel asleep on Christmas were you having sex right next to me?” Alex almost shrieked.

 

“No! It was at the party.” Alex smacked him hard on the arm.

 

“Great so while I was minding my own business, drunk off my ass in front of the daughters and sons of French aristocrats, you were upstairs with your  _ ex wife. _ ” He sounded incredulous, and a dark look suddenly blossomed in his face. Angry but now almost guilty. “Oh my god. You hooked up with her right after I turned you down, didn't you?”

 

“Well if my own best friend wouldn't date me, I figured why not go back to what I know?” He joked but Alex didn't smile. “Alex, stop. It wasn't because of you. I was lonely and caught up in the past. I think it actually helped my friendship with her, because it was awful. There was obviously no spark left.” 

 

“Don't-” Alex cut himself off, biting his lip, unsure exactly how to put the enormous cloud of emotions swarming through him into words. “Don't get so caught up in Washington that you lose yourself.” Laf blinked in surprise and Alex went on, leaning into his friend in an awkward yet comfortable embrace, the two now semi intertwined. “We both aren't really the type to fall in love. So I know how you feel. Just,” He sighed. “Just don’t lose yourself in loving him. Don't let it make you selfish, or worse, don't let it make you forget to prioritize yourself. Ya know? I think you're an idiot for sleeping with your ex, but you'd be a bigger idiot to forget that you are Gilbert goddamn Lafayette, a real fucking catch.” Lafayette was staring down at him, eyes stinging, and he laughed breathlessly. From his angle, he could only see Alex’s head, the boy nestled into his chest.

 

“I could kiss you sometimes, you know that?” Laf was only half joking, and Alex was only half laughing. 

 

“Shut up.”

 

“John's a fool.” He said, terribly quietly, after a minute, and Alex did not acknowledge him.

 

“Hey.” Alex said after about twenty minutes of comfortable silence, Laf nearly slipping into a cat nap. 

 

“What?”

 

“This is the first time,  _ ever _ , that we aren't going to be roommates.” Alex said, sitting up to look at Laf.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Well, we share an apartment. But now we have our own rooms.” Alex gestured behind Laf to the bedrooms, eyes wistful. “I've never not shared a room with you since coming to America.”

 

Lafayette laughed but Alex felt a real pang of loss pierce him. They would still be living together, sure. But it was different when you had someone only five feet away. They had their own lives independent of one another, but they came home to the same room. Now, days could go by without them even having to interact. 

 

“Some of the deepest bonding we ever had that first semester was taking naps at the same time.” Laf sighed and Alex laughed, the memory sharp and sudden. 

 

He had completely forgotten how, almost daily, Lafayette had insisted on a 2pm catnap to “adjust” to the American lifestyle. At first, Alex had joined him out of annoyance at his incessant begging, waiting until the boy in the bed across from him was asleep before grabbing his laptop and pounding away, but his body had ended up needing them more than he cared to admit.

 

“There's something beautiful about having the same fucked up sleep schedule.” Alex smirked and Laf smiled, the sadness in the look indicating that he had just realized just how much distance the wall between them really was.

 

“You know what?” Laf sprang up suddenly, rushing into the room Alex assumed was his friends, leading him to realize they had never completed the tour. “I haven't put together my bed frame yet.”

 

“So?” Alex shouted after him. He heard a weird scuffling and watch Laf reappear in his line of vision, dragging a mattress across the small hallway. 

 

“So,” Laf shouted, now inside Alex’s room. “For the first night, we will be roommates again!” Alex grinned, jumping to his feet to join his friend.

 

His room was round, which he found incredibly charming, and the ceiling was high.  _ I could string some lights or something. Let John paint a mural on the wall. _ Alex was too swept up in the beauty of having his  _ own space _ , which he never had, that he hardly noticed his subconscious recognizing John as part of his immediate future.

 

“This place is great Laf. I love you.”

 

“Don't get sappy on me.” Lafayette sprawled on his mattress, on the floor, directly below Alex’s.  _ He set up my bed frame but not his own. _

 

“I mean it.” Alex grinned cheesily, flopping down on the mattress next to him. “I love you man.”

 

“No homo.” Laf deadpanned and Alex smacked him, their laughs echoing around the wide walls.

 

* * *

  
  


Thursday night. Alexander would move into the apartment completely tomorrow, as they needed Herc’s car to move his dresser and nightstand, and then they would never have to set foot in that shitty dorm again.  _ Its bullshit that they are charging us for the rest of the semester,  _ Laf thought passively, not truly angry. It was pocket change, and he didn't like to dwell on money, especially not in the context of Alexander. Too much guilt.

 

The boy had decided to try and put together his bedframe all on his own, remaining locked in his bedroom well into the night. A crumpled ikea instruction manual abandoned on the floor along with his shirt were a testament to how efficiently it had gone. But after several long hours of cursing and accidentally hammering his own thumb, Laf’s mattress now rested atop a handsome dark mahogany frame.

 

“Jesus Christ do I wanna just curl up in you.” He grumbled to his bed, wiping the sweat off his forehead, before pondering it in earnest. 

 

It  _ was _ pretty late, and Laf hated riding the subway alone.  _ I'm too pretty to be out by my lonesome after dark.  _ So, with a shrug, he decided to just crash here.  _ I hardly need to say goodbyes to that dorm, and Alexander can handle sleeping in his own room for one final night. _

 

But Laf had forgotten what it felt like to be alone.

 

_ Don't be such a coward.  _ He chided himself, laying under a thin blanket as the sounds of the New York traffic buzzed beneath him, an urban lullaby.

 

He could hear the honks and skids of cars in the street, but felt painfully aware of every sound  _ within _ the apartment as well. The way the floor creaked, and the walls softly groaned in the wind.

 

And he felt his chest tighten and breathing become shallow in a familiar, chilling way. Anxiety danced through him as his sleepy and traitorous mind began painting pictures of what could be creeping and crawling about. Coming for him.

 

He only had one real nightmare, one monster. And it was always the same.

 

_ This was for that cunt Washington. But I'll warm up on you. _

 

Always always  _ always _ it was Charles Lee. His shape was in every shadow, his sneering face waiting behind every corner. The  _ whoosh _ of air when he had swung his pipe towards Laf, the moment that had lasted an eternity, was in every bump in the night. He thought he could see the shadow of it now, on the wall. A hand clutching some metallic weapon, reaching closer and  _ closer. _

 

Lafayette hated to be alone. He put on a front for Alexander, he had to. But he knew what he had. He just didn't dare speak the name, because that would make it real.  _ Post traumatic shock disorder.  _ But that sounded too official. Really, he just felt  _ haunted.  _ Haunted by a face and a pain he couldn't escape.

 

_ Lafayette.  _ He was certain he heard Lee’s voice in the hall, Lee’s heavy footsteps on the stair. With a little sob, half from fear and half from shame at his own childish imagination, Laf pulled the thin blanket high over his head. 

 

_ Just go to sleep. Close your eyes and go to sleep. _

 

Laf tried to imagine Alexander asleep in the room across the hall, only a shout away should anyone truly ever try to harm him.  _ Ah but you were alone when Lee got you the first time. And you're alone now. _

 

_ I should take some NyQuil.  _ Laf reasoned after a moment of forcing himself to take long, deep breaths.  _ There's some in the bathroom. Just get up and get some and you'll be able to sleep. _

 

But the thought of removing his feet from under the safety of the blanket, of letting them touch the hardwood floors bare, sparking a childish fear in him.  _ You're safe under the covers.  _ He knew, logically, he was just as safe without the blankets over his face. But Laf was paralyzed by fear, physically unable to perform the simple task of peeling off the covers and running to the bathroom. All he could do, it seemed, was tremble. 

 

_ I thought you were over this by now Laf. _

 

His own disappointment in his infantile fears were overlapping with echoes of words the boys had said to him.  _ Before they beat you. Before George saved you. _

 

_ George. _

 

Now  _ there _ was a thought to hold on to, a lifeline. The professor would be here, in this apartment, Saturest night for dinner.  _ It will be innocent, but cleansing.  _ The energy around him felt different, picturing George in the apartment rather than Lee. George, who had experienced his trauma with him. George, who had saved him. George, who he was painfully in love with.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter at a sudden creak in the floor, breaths labored, and tried to hold on to the image of the professor.  _ Soon it will be dawn.  _ He felt safe in the sunlight.  _ Think of George until then. It does no harm to picture him. _

 

And eventually, fantasizing about dark eyes under heavy set brows and stern steady hands, Lafayette fell asleep. And he managed to stop trembling, hands still at his side.

 

But he never came out from under the blanket. Not until the sun came up.

 

* * *

 

Theodosia enjoyed people watching almost as much as, she was learning, Alexander Hamilton loved drinking. Thomas’ party had only been going on for a couple hours and, from her clear vantage point leaned against the wall between kitchen and living room, Theo had witnessed the boy return to the kitchen on five separate occasions for shots.  _ He must be drinking to forget something.  _ She understood.

 

Hamilton was quite a character, and she found him incredibly endearing. He seemed protective of her, which Theo decided to allow, considering how protective she was beginning to feel over  _ him _ . 

 

She watched from across the room, flashing fluorescent lights dancing across strangers’ faces, him and Angelica and Thomas laughing together loudly, clinking their red solo cups together and chugging it's contents in unison.  _ What a weird love triangle.  _ Theo wondered distantly if either boy realized how Angelica, a hand on Thomas’ chest territorially, had her body pointed completely towards Alex. She wondered if Angelica was even aware of this. 

 

Theo was caught up in her people watching, shyly fingering a dreadlock between her thumb and forefinger, so much so that she didn't notice the figure slinking up beside her, melting perfectly into the shadowy corner she had claimed for the evening.

 

“Would  _ Jacques  _ really approve of you being here?” It was a tremendous effort for Theodosia to look annoyed, but she managed to mask her pounding heart with a masterful scowl.

 

“Aaron, you know he prefers Jack.”

 

The boy looked dangerously good, dressed down in party attire. A pleasant change from his usual stuff collared shirts, washed with more starch than Mr. Clean himself had ever intended. 

 

_ An appropriate metaphor.  _

 

Theo was not going to pretend that, when she decided to return to New York and Columbia, she hadn't been expecting ( _ hoping _ ) to run into Aaron Burr. Their goodbye words haunted her still.

 

_ I want spontaneity Aaron. Not someone who insists on taking everything slow and sitting down and analyzing every little thing in a relationship. _

 

_ No Theo, you just don't want to grow up. You want someone to make all your choices for you. Because you can't decide anything for yourself. _

 

_ Yeah Aaron? Well I decided on  _ **_him._ ** _ Not you. And I won't be the one of us lying awake with regrets. _

 

Oh how wrong she would be.

 

“So you joined the debate club?” She asked dryly, sipping her red solo cup of water. She might be perfectly sober, but she didn't want to look like a total pariah.  _ A fat black girl with pink hair stands out enough as is.  _ Not that she minded her appearance in any way. If anything, she had been considering switching to silver hair lately. “Why am I not convinced it wasn't for my benefit?” Aaron placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt, making her smile despite herself.

 

“Join for you? You must think the world revolves around you Theo.” His words were teasing but his eyes said  _ yes, the world does, in fact, revolve around you Theo. My world.  _ She shuddered, amazed but somehow not surprised to find the intensity with which he looked at her hadn't changed.  _ Were you hoping he had fallen out of love with you, or were you afraid of it? _

 

“Let's not play games Aaron.” She said, suddenly tired and sad. “I came back and yes, you were a large factor in that decision.” She watched his eyes light up only for her next words to extinguish the flame immediately. “But Jack and I are engaged. And I love him.” This went without saying, but Theo felt the need to defend her actions. “I want us to be friends, Aaron. Because you were my best friend.”  _ Please.  _ She was begging silently.  _ You know I have no one else, and you know I can't let you go. Let me keep you in this small way. _

 

His eyes narrowed, the playful facade crumbling away.

 

“We were never just friend Theodosia.” He mumbled and turned to walk away, almost making it a step, before his body stiffened and he sighed, turning back around. Theo felt guilty at her power, but she knew he would not say no to her. He never would. “Alright.” He closed his eyes tight. “We can be friends. Just…” He let out a long breathe. “I can only be around you so much, alright? I can only handle...so much.” She nodded, too understanding and too grateful to argue.

 

“Thank you Aaron.” On a reflex that can be formed only from years of habit, she reached up to touch his face. He flinched away from her, as if bitten.

 

“Don't.” He snarled, eyes suddenly hostile and pained, and disappeared back into the crowd.

 

_ Yeah _ , She thought, her mind a million miles away as her eyes absently found her hair, a dreadlock still between her fingers.  _ I should go silver. _

 

* * *

  
  


“Hey there, whoa. Come on now.” Angelica guided Alex up the stairs, his arm around her shoulders. This was ironic, considering she was equally if not even more drunk than the smaller boy. Alex was giggling.

 

“You're talking to me like you're corralling a horse.”

 

She giggled in return and, stumbling over the top step and nearly sending them both into a drunken lump on the floor, managed to locate the bathroom for which they had been so desperately searching.

 

Alex’s knees immediately buckled and he crouched in front of the bathtub, breaths raspy and rough. Downstairs, he had been certain he would throw up, but the feeling had passed with surprising painlessness.  _ I'm a high functioning alcoholic.  _ He thought, finding this hysterical, and looked up to repeat it to Angelica.

 

She was gripping the sides of the sink, staring at herself intensely in the mirror and Alex snickered.

 

“Who's winning the staring contest?”

 

“Shuddup.” She mumbled lazily, swaying slightly. “Mm trying to see...if I look drunk.” She interrupted herself with a hiccup and, in a brief moment of clarity, Alex realized they were incredibly fucked up.

 

“Where did we leave Thomas?” He tried to stand up but the floor rushed to meet him, the walls forgetting the laws of physics and beginning to swirl. The feeling he might vomit returned.

 

“He fell asleep, ‘member?” Angelica looked down at him and held out her hand. “He passed the fuck out.” She giggled.

 

Alex reached for the hand and, unintentionally, pulled with all his weight and inside of him rising, she came tumbling down.

 

“Lets just sleep here.” He grumbled, the notion of trying to stand again impossibly tiring. 

 

“It's our party.” She complained without moving, Alex’s legs trapped beneath her. “We should be the last ones on the dancefloor.”

 

“We were.” He laughed. “It's four in the fuckin’ morning, almost everyone went home.”

 

“Why did we even come upstairs?” She moaned and he laughed, lifting his head (a nearly impossible feat) to look at her.

 

“Angelica, you are like  _ so  _ much more drunk than me.” He laughed and she turned to him, mascara smeared but still very pretty. 

 

She mumbled something incoherent, a drunk nonsensical sentence, and he laughed weakly, deeply considering closing his eyes and just passing out right here. Thomas wouldn't mind.

 

He turned to Angelica to suggest as much, the head movement dizzying, and when he faced her she leaned forward and kissed him. 

 

Alexander stood up with speed he shouldn't have been capable of, suddenly feeling very sober.

 

“Angelica what the hell?” He glared down at her, the room spinning, and she stared at him in confusion.

 

“You don’ wanna kiss me?” She frowned. “But I always-”

 

“Angie.” He interrupted her, unable to hear whatever confession she was willing to make under the heavy influence of alcohol. “You don't want to kiss me either. What about Thomas?”

 

“Thomas?” She wrinkles her forehead in confusion before her eyes went wide and she slapped a hand to her mouth. “Thomas! Oh no oh no.” To Alex’s horror, she started to cry.  _ Jesus Christ I am too drunk to deal with this. _

 

“Hey hey. It's okay Angie.” He knelt down beside her, a safe distance away, and she let out a little sob.

 

“No it isn't! I kissed you, I ruined  _ everything. _ ”

 

“You're drunk Angelica. He'll understand.” She shook her head.

 

“He might if it was anybody else. But it's  _ you.”  _ Alex didn't want to try and decipher that.

 

“I can tell him for you if you want. We can just say we were drunk and that  _ I  _ kissed  _ you.”  _ Alex didn't know much about the mechanics of Thomas and Angelica’s relationship, but he didn't want to see them break up. Especially not over him. “It'll be okay.”

 

“No, it won't be.”

 

She wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself up with the shower curtain, bringing it crashing down. This lead to her crying intensifying, and with a long sigh Alex pulled her to her feet.

 

“I gotta get out of here.” She mumbled, and he helped her unlock her phone to call a lyft, Angelica mumbling to herself as he helped her down the stairs. 

 

“Angelica, everything will be okay in the morning.” He promised weakly, the two standing outside the front door. She shook her head, calm now and looking more aware than she had in the past hour.

 

“I love him, ya know?” She said to the sky and Alex nodded.  _ Yeah, that seems to be the theme. People kissing me to see if they love somebody else. _ He wondered if he should be mad at her but didn't really have the energy.

 

“I know.” He replied and she stumbled into the car, Alex waiting until they drove away to turn back inside.

 

He found Thomas asleep on the floor beside the couch- _ must have rolled off, idiot _ \- and stepped over him onto the couch, falling asleep almost the second his head hit the cushion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading sorry i love angst so much
> 
> please check out my [sci fi fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7999390) if you havent already im hella excited about it


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so I forced myself not to go past this "one month" deadline of my updates for these long ass chapters so here I am.
> 
> this week was a rollercoaster I came out to the rest of my family and my dad was basically like ".....yeah we fuckin know ur gay" so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> also I have an important disclaimer that I really need people to read but it contains spoilers for this chapter so it's at the end PLEASE READ
> 
> as usual, thank you so much for your beautiful comments. Please come talk to me on [my tumblr](http://angstyqueerfeminist.tumblr.com/) as I love making internet friends
> 
> shoutout to tumblr user @stonerjohnlaurens for leaving me long ass comments that I thrive on and motivating me to get my ass out of bed and write lmfao
> 
> enjoy! xoxoxo

_ Okay so where is the line between how many candles say “welcome to my home enjoy the ambiance” and how many say “I know you're my professor but life is short let's fuck”?  _ Lafayette held the lighter’s long neck over the candle hesitantly, unsure which effect he was going for. Just to be safe, he lit it.  _ I'll leave the lights on; the perfect balance. _

 

He had made some bread from scratch, just about the only thing he had ever learned to cook on his own during a childhood of being catered to, and had bought one of those frozen lasagnas that allegedly tasted restaurant worthy and had shoved the box deep in the trash.  _ As far as George is concerned, I'm the world’s best chef.  _

 

Unbeknownst to him, at that same moment in the house of Thomas Jefferson, Alexander was doing tequila shots with the aforementioned host and Angelica Schuyler, the three sweaty and disheveled and without a care in the world. Had he known, he might have been envious. Nothing enticed Laf like public intoxication.

 

But he did not know Alex’s exact whereabouts, and he was too caught up in his own anxieties to even wonder about his best friend. George Washington was going to be in his apartment. Laf didn't expect that anything would happen, he  _ couldn't _ . Getting his hopes up like that would only lead to inevitable devastation.  _ We are friends. George and I are friends. _

 

_ Ah yes, and look at your behavior with your three closest friends. You've kissed all three of them and sleep with your best friend semi regularly.  _

 

Laf shook the thought away, abandoning his quest for more candles when the oven buzzed loudly, a slightly burnt smell permeating the air that he had assumed was the candles.

 

“Fuck.” He grumbled, donning huge blue oven mitts before pulling out the tin. The top was blackish, looking crisper than it probably should be, and he glared at the offending layer of burnt cheese. “I'll just scrap that off the top.” He said under his breath, doing so with a butter knife, careful not to get any tomato sauce on his nice shirt.

 

His outfit had been another point of contention, not wanting to look  _ too _ formal but still wanting to remind the professor that he was a hot young piece of ass. So while Laf wore slacks instead of jeans, they remained  _ very _ skin hugging. 

 

The doorbell buzzed, a sound he hadn't yet heard as it was still his first week in the apartment, and he was so surprised he dropped the knife. Laf stood there for a moment in mild panic, glancing rapidly between the knife and the living room, before he grabbed the knife, threw it in the sink, and dashed to the door.

 

He waited in front of it for a moment, inhaling deeply to steady his pounding heart and shaking hands, and donned the smile he had  _ not _ spent a good twenty minutes practicing in the mirror to find the perfect blend between charming and innocent. 

 

“George.” Laf said, swinging the door open, and it was the only syllable he could manage.

 

The professor looked unfairly handsome, dressed smartly in a brown blazer and a perfectly pressed cream undershirt that Laf privately, immediately, and embarrassingly imagined on his bedroom floor. But more than that, in his hands the older man held a small pot of flowers.

 

“Gilbert.” He said warmly, mimicking Laf’s tone, and Laf snapped out of his trance with a fond smile, stepping aside to invite him in.

 

“Welcome to my humble home Professor. Flowers?” He asked, attempting to still his voice. The man smiled at Laf nervously.

 

“Ah, a house warming gift.” He held out the pot of flowers, an image so sweet Lafayette wished he could retain i for ever, and he took the flowers gently.

 

George had brought him flowers. Sure, it was a pot and not a bouquet, but it did not feel so different in Laf’s heart.

 

“I don't know much about flowers,” George went on as his eyes traced Laf’s home. It felt intimate, him examining and analyzing the space where Laf lived, but he did not mind. In fact, he wanted deeply to know if it suited George’s taste. “But uh, the lady at the shop told me holly symbolised domestic happiness? For your new home?” Laf nodded approvingly.

 

“It does.” He fingered through the arrangement, now paying attention to the flowers, and suppressed a little gasp. “And the striped carnations?” He asked, looking up and meeting George’s eyes. “You picked those as well?”

 

“I found them pretty.” He admitted, smiling gently. “Why, what do they mean?” 

 

Laf shook his head a little, smiling to himself as he placed the flowers on the windowsill, back to George.

 

“They represent slighted affections.” He turned back around. “I cannot possibly love you.” The air grew heavy and Laf’s eyes suddenly widened. “Th-that's what the flowers mean. Not that I….” He trailed off, the only blessing being that George looked just as embarrassed as he did.

 

The professor’s phone rang, startling them both, and he flashed Laf an apologetic look before fishing it out of his pocket.

 

“Sorry.” He said, looking grateful for the interruption, and Laf snorted to see the man answer a  _ flip phone.  _ George threw him a grin, as if reading his mind, before lifting the phone to his ear. “George Washington, what can I do for you?”

 

Lafayette felt something sink into the out of his stomach as he watched the professor’s eyes grow serious.

 

“Yes…..yes. Okay. And is she-?.....Alright. Yes. Yes. I will be there.” By the time he had hung up, his entire demeanour had shifted, shoulders still and an ancient tiredness veiling his face.

 

“Everything alright?” Laf asked softly, already sensing the answer. 

 

“It's Martha. My ex-wife.” He added for clarification, as if Laf didn't have all the details the man had ever slipped to him memorized. George rubbed his face and Lafayette wanted to complete the motion for him, smoothing away the wrinkles of frustration and stress. “There’s been an accident and….evidently I am her emergency contact.” He shook his head. “Makes sense, she has no other family...I am so sorry Laf- Gilbert.” His correction was so sharp it made Laf jump. “I have to go to Virginia to see her. I…” George looked around the room, regret pooling deeper in his eyes as they landed on each candle individually. “I am so sorry. I have to leave.”

 

_ But you just got here!  _ Laf wanted to whine. He wanted to stomp his foot and childishly insist that George’s injured and alone ex wife could wait because  _ dammit  _ Laf had throw a frozen lasagna in the oven for him.

 

“Oh.” He said, trying to conceal his disappointment and failing miserably, if the look on George’s face was any indicator. Laf quickly recovered and smiled winningly, because that was what he  _ did.  _ He was Laf, and he rolled with the punches.  _ Metaphorical or otherwise.  _ “Well then, I won't keep you. Is she going to be alright?”

 

“I hope so.” George mumbled, digging through his pocket and pulling out his keys hastily. “It was a car accident. I don't know much.” He looked up at Laf, hands stilling suddenly. “I really am very sorry Gilbert. I...I was looking forward to this.” He said the sentence in a hushed tone, as if it were some scandalous confession, and Laf’s heart clenched.

 

“Another time.” Laf promised, smiling with a certainty that he didn't feel. For some reason, he had the looming feeling that it had to be  _ tonight _ , it had to be  _ now _ , or it wouldn't happen at all. “Go. I will see you in class.”

 

“I'm class.” He echoed, moving towards the door. “Goodbye Gilbert.”

 

“ _ Au revoir _ .” He said, playfully making his accent thicker. The professor smiled at him before disappearing out the door, footsteps heavy as he walked away. And then there was silence.

 

Lafayette sank down onto the couch, the candlelight casting ominous, flickering shadows across his face. He stated at the door for a long moment before rising, going into the kitchen, and throwing the lasagna tin whole into the trash.

 

* * *

 

tjeffs: are you avoiding me

angel of music: why would I avoid you thomas

tjeffs: i just haven't seen you or heard from you since saturday night

angel of music: not even two days ago

tjeffs: so you aren't ignoring me then ?

 

Angelica had never replied. And she now stared down at her phone for probably the thousandth time that day, rereading the texts from this morning that she practically had memorized by now. 

 

_ Thomas.  _

 

How could she do this to him?

 

He pretended to be so cold and calculating, but she knew him. He was soft and sentimental, thriving off big romantic gestures and the kind of ridiculous mush Angelica only thought existed in 90’s movies and teenage girls. But really, it existed in the naivety and hopefulness Thomas possessed that so many (herself included) mistook for stupidity.  _ And you cheated on him. _

 

Thomas had brought her flowers once and she sneered at him. He’d wanted to wear matching shirts to debate club,  _ matching shirts _ , and she had laughed in his face. Even when he had told her that he loved her, she had made it about herself, never telling him back.

 

_ My god, I've never even told him that I love him.  _ All this time she had thought Thomas was the asshole but it was  _ her _ .  _ He acts like an ass to the world but is sweet to the ones he loves, but you're just an ass through and through. At least Thomas doesn't pretend to be someone he isn't.  _

She hadn’t even messaged him back since this morning, deciding to tell him in person, as if she were some brave martyr choosing to face her transgressions head on. No, she had just been stalling the inevitable. Hell, she had even texted Alex before her own boyfriend.  _ The one you literally cheated on him with. _

 

angel of music: I don't know what to do

slice of ham: angie please don't freak 

slice of ham: you were drunk, it happens

slice of ham: plus it's Thomas. You could commit murder in front of him and he’d still worship you

 

He wasn't wrong, but that only applied to if it had been anybody else. She could have drunkenly kissed Arron fucking Burr and he’d probably just laugh about it and tease her mercilessly. But it was  _ Alexander _ she had kissed, and Thomas knew how she felt about Alex. He saw her for what she was, and he wouldn't let this slide.  _ And if he didn't see you for what you are before, he will now.  _

 

She didn't text ahead to announce her coming, allowing herself that window of escape should she change her mind and dash. But Angelica remained stock still outside of Thomas’ house after she knocked, his footsteps approaching almost ominously.

 

“Angelica.” His grin when he opened the door could light up the entire night sky. Angelica thought that someone should tell the moon to retire, all that was needed was this boy’s smile.

 

“We need to talk.” Her tone was clipped when she brushed past him and she saw the flicker of fear in his eyes, like he was afraid that  _ he _ had done something wrong. She had firmly believed, prior to that exact moment, that she was out of his league. That cockiness crumbled in a heartbeat. _ Take your walls down, you owe him that. _ Angelica took a deep breath and swallowed, standing in the middle of the living room, and let her vulnerability show, blinking back tears when she looked at him. He immediately tried to cross the room to her but she stopped him with her words. 

 

“Angelica if me texting you earlier seemed clingy I just-”

 

“I fucked up.” She blurted, hating the way he froze in his tracks, eyebrows pressing together. She wanted to hold him in that moment, him looking at her before he knew the truth. Knew how selfish she really was. “I kissed Alexander. Hamilton.”  _ I'm so sorry. Please forgive me, I love you. _ She wanted to beg but instead, masochist that she is, she watched him silently, gauging his reaction.

 

“What?” Thomas said softly and  _ wow _ , Angelica hadn't known that a single syllable could carry such weight. Convey so much hurt. She stepped toward him and he didn't flinch away. “You cheated on me? With  _ Alex _ ?”

 

“It's not like that.” She protested weakly. “I was drunk and it was just one kiss and he shoved me away immediately and-”

 

“ _ He _ shoved you away.” Thomas echoed, a distant look in his eyes. “He ended it…..not you.” Angelica could almost tangibly feel him slipping away from her, making her desperate.  _ I can't-won't- lose Thomas. This is Thomas, he'll forgive me. He always forgives me. _

 

“Thomas, I'm sorry. It was a stupid mistake and I am so  _ sorry _ and-”

 

“No,” He laughed but it was humorless. “No, I'm sorry.” He stepped backwards, removing his arm from where her fingers had landed on it, and looked up at her. His stare was cold.

 

And there it was; the Thomas he presented to the world. The pretentious douchebag who would step on anyone to get his way. Not her Thomas, the Thomas who would beg for a Pixar movie marathon. The Thomas  _ she _ had stepped on whenever she had the chance.

 

“All this time,” He shook his head, fists clenching. “I've been so stupid. You said from the beginning you only wanted sex, and I just tried to push you. Make this more than it was.” _No._ _No, we’re dating Thomas. You're my boyfriend. Doesn't that prove how I feel? Isn't that enough?_ “I was just so caught up in thinking _Angelica Schuyler_ could want me. I was the stupid one. And _I'm_ sorry. I convinced myself that you loved me, when you so clearly-” His voice broke on _clearly_ , Angelica feeling as though the weight of the world were pressing down on her, trying to bury her into the dust. “-do not.”

 

“That's not true.” She protested weakly and he looked up at her, a million miles away.

 

“Angelica.” He said and her heart fluttered hopefully. She wanted him to hold her and make it go away, make her feel like a person when she always treated him as less than. “Can you leave, please?”

 

“Thomas.” Her voice caught in her throat and she stepped towards him again, grateful he didn't pull away yet again. “You didn't...you didn't make a mistake with me. I'm sorry.I’ll make it up to you. It won't happen again I swe-”

 

“You're right, it won't happen again.” He was standing so close to her that she had a clear view void of emotion in his eyes and it made her want to cry. “Because I want you to leave.”

 

“Thomas, we need to at least talk-”

 

“No, we don't.” He pulled away again, refusing to look at her, and somehow that was worse. 

 

“So you’re….” She almost choked on her words. “You’re breaking up with me? You won’t even try to work this out?” His laugh was cruel.

 

“Sure Angelica,  _ I’m  _ the one dumping  _ you  _ in this farce of a relationship. Just make yourself the victim here.”

 

“Thomas-”

 

“Just  _ go _ !” He practically shouted, waving her away with his hand,  _ dismissing  _ her, and Angelica wanted to fight, but what could she say? 

 

_ Tell him that it was a mistake because you love him. Tell him he’s wrong, and you adore him. _

 

“Okay.” She swallowed heavily. “Goodbye then.”

 

She turned her back to him, letting the door close with a click of finality behind her, and wondered if this was about her cheating on him at all.  _ It isn't. It's about only one of you ever putting any risk into the relationship. It's about you making him walk on eggshells. It's about you withholding love, just to see him dance for it. _

 

_ He asked me to leave. I'm just doing what he wants. _

 

_ Coward. _

 

Angelica took a breath, shutting out the conflicting voices in her head, and left. Not looking back to see him watching her from the window, not once.

 

* * *

 

 

unsaved number: hey there ;)

slice of ham: uh no offense but who is this

unsaved number: kit

unsaved number: oh god I should be more specific. Drunk guy you tried to take home and cried on?

unsaved number: Or does that happen often?

slice of ham: oh my god 

slice of ham: I am so sorry about that 

kit from the club: it was cute

slice of ham: you have a fucked up idea of cute

kit from the club: hot messes are kinda my type

slice of ham: oh my god

slice of ham: not sure whether to be flattered or offended? 

kit from the club: haha I'm messing with you man

kit from the club: I just wanted to make sure you were okay

slice of ham: like a week later ?

kit from the club: I was pretty drunk my memories returned to me gradually 

slice of ham: lol

slice of ham: yes I am okay. I made it home fine

kit from the club: everything work out between you and that boy you started crying all over me for?

slice of ham: I don't really know you so

kit from the club: ok ok sorry to overstep

slice of ham: it's fine

 

* * *

 

slice of ham: no everything didn't work out between us

kit from the club: thought you didn't want to talk about it?

slice of ham: shut up

kit from the club: you talk a lot, don't you?

slice of ham: so I've been told

kit from the club: what are you doing later today?

slice of ham: probably nothing

slice of ham: but I shouldn't be hooking up with anybody rn

kit from the club: whoa there, who said I wanted to hook up?

slice of ham: oh jesus sorry

kit from the club: presumptuous little thing arentcha

slice of ham:.....you're fucking with me again aren't you

kit from the club: its like taking candy from a baby

slice of ham: I hate that simile 

slice of ham: taking shit from kids is hard with their grubby little hands and tight grips

kit from the club: you don't seem like you want kids very much for somebody not into hookup culture

slice of ham: okay 1) I think they are gross but that doesn't mean i wouldn't eventually hypothetically want any and 2) i never said i wasn't into hookup culture. I'm just taking a break from it

kit from the club: 1) you respond like, inhumanly fast

kit from the club: 2) it's because of boy who made you cry isn't it

slice of ham: I have a lot to say about everything 

slice of ham: and yes. It is

kit from the club: you still haven't answered my question 

slice of ham: what question?

kit from the club: are you free later

slice of ham: yeah. My last class ends at 3:45

kit from the club: coffee?

slice of ham: you're buying

 

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Kit asked, fixing him with a long stare.

 

Even dead sober, the boy was unfairly gorgeous. Alex had squirmed self consciously in his seat when Kit had walked up; hair up in a messy bun and clad in a leather jacket. Whereas Alex was wearing one of Lafayette’s hoodies advertising some obscure french band as his roommate had conveniently forgotten it was his turn to do the laundry.  _ I hope people think this is a date and think to themselves: damn. That little guy must be incredible in bed to land a babe like that. _

 

It was not a date, however, leading Alex to wonder what the hell he was doing here. The answer was unfortunately simplistic and actually the logic behind most of his one night stands; he had nothing better to do.

“I feel like you're the therapist I didn't ask for.” Alex grumbled, taking a sip of his coffee. Kit just raised an eyebrow expectantly and Alex sighed. “Okay let me give you the summary: this guy-”

 

“What's his name?” Kit asked, tilting his head, and Alex tossed him a glare.

 

“It's John and if you expect me to weave you a nice yarn here you can't interrupt.”

 

Kit made the motion of locking his lips and tossing the invisible key over his shoulder. Alex bit back a smile and went on.

 

“So  _ John _ and I are-were, I guess-best friends for the past three years, right? Except the entire time, he’s been in love with me.”

 

“Mmm I love soap operas.” Kit said with a smirk. Alex ignored him.

 

“And I pretty much knew it the whole time and was kinda….stringing him along. Ya know? I uh, liked the attention.” He cringed, waiting for Kit to make some comment about what an ass Alex was, or gape at him. But the boy just stared at him neutrally, nodding at him to go on. “And he got a boyfriend this year, which made me real fucking jealous. So basically I kissed him and his boyfriend asked him to stay away from me, and he  _ does _ . Even though we’ve been best friends for  _ years _ .” He took another gulp of coffee to compose himself, not minding the way it scalded the roof of his mouth in his haste. “So anyway, we haven't been talking since, I don't know, November? And I text him merry Christmas and he doesn't answer. Oh, I forgot to mention at this point I realised I loved him back and- wait what's so funny?”

 

Kit had a hand over his mouth to hold back a little laugh but a snort still escaped. Alex crossed his arms in a huff.

 

“Sorry it's just-” Another little laugh. “This isn't what I expected. It just sounds so….high school.” He laughed again and Alex couldn't resist a smile of his own, which he tried to smother.

 

“It does, doesn't it?” He said softly, and surprised himself by letting out a laugh of his own. “God, we are so immature. And I'm not even at the best part.”

 

“Please, go on.” Kit said with a crooked grin.

 

“His boyfriend dumped him, because he thought John was still in love with me. So John kissed me to prove to himself that he wasn't. So it was a complete reversal. He kissed me, not loving me at all, and I'm totally in love with him.” He looked up but Kit wasn't smiling anymore. His stare was intense and- to Alex’s slight irritation-a little pitying. 

 

“Jesus Alex. That's fucked up.” 

 

“Yeah.” Alex shrugged, slightly defensive. “Well, John didn't mean it like that. He...he wouldn't hurt someone intentionally.”

 

“You really believe that?” Kit asked in a prodding tone, to which Alex’s gaze sharpened in response.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Have you spoken to John since?” Alex narrowed his eyes suspiciously, not trusting the direction this conversation was taking.

 

“No. But-”

 

“But he’s reached out to you?” He asked innocently.

 

“Yeah.” Alex took another long chug of coffee.

 

“So,” Kit rested his chin in his hand thoughtfully, a slight smirk on his lips. “You're just punishing him then?” Alex scoffed.

 

“He….I don't have to forgive him. What he did hurt me, and it's not wrong to want some space.” He crossed his arms and Kit’s grin spread.

 

“So you never plan on talking to him again?” Alex huffed in annoyance.

 

“Well not  _ never _ .”

 

“You know what I think?” Kit said after a moment.

 

“Enlighten me.” Alex said dryly and the other boy leaned forward in his chair.

 

“I think you're scared. You know you love him now, so you don't want to forgive him. Because you're scared of being to him what he was to you. You don't want to feel unrequited love.”  _ Well that analysis was….unexpected.  _

 

“Pretty bold to say that to someone you just met.” Alex managed to choke out after a moment, reaching for his coffee cup and finding it empty. Kit just watched him.

 

“Well, that's the thing isn't it? It's easier to talk to someone you just met because they can give you that fresh outside perspective.”

 

“I think I'd rather you just agree with everything I said.” Alex mumbled and Kit laughed, his head tipping backwards.

 

“You're a funny guy Alex. John must be kinda dense to choose someone else.” Alex fixed him with a long stare.

 

“Are you flirting with me?”

 

“Wow.” Kit laughed again and Alex felt like he were missing some grand joke. “Have you never just had somebody who wanted to be your friend without wanting you?” Alex opened his mouth to reply before slowly closing it. He thought of Lafayette….who he had slept with before a month into meeting him. Of Eliza….who he had only become friends with thanks to a failed attempt at dating her.  _ Hell, even Angelica kissed me.  _

 

“Guess not.” He said, closing his eyes as if to block out the pain of sudden insight and self awareness. “But I'm sure it's no accident. Up until recently I kinda…..intentionally surrounded myself with admirers.”

 

“I really do feel like your therapist.” Kit teased. He adopted a faux serious face, wrinkling his forehead. “And how does that make you feel?”

 

“Shut up.” Alex smacked him and laughed until the sound died away into comfortable silence. “So, friends eh? You  _ sure  _ you aren’t just trying to fuck me?” Kit laughed again, a hand over his stomach.

“I’m actually really new to the city and could use some friends. So yes. If I needed a hook up I’d be at a bar, not a coffee shop.” 

 

Alex shrugged, accepting his answer with strange amusement. Grown men didn't ask grown men to be their friends.  _ Well with that fragile masculinity mindset, no wonder they don't.  _

 

“Plus,” Kit smirked a little. “Your John doesn’t know me yet. You can use me to make him jealous, love you again.” Alex opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it again.  _ Let’s put a pin in that idea, I don’t wanna dismiss it just yet. _

 

“Alright new friend,” He said with an exaggerated sigh. “The first thing you should know is that my affections can and are bought.” Kit took the hint, smiling brightly.

 

“I’ll get you another coffee.” He said, grabbing the empty cup and giving Alex a little salute that was so John-like his heart clenched.

 

_ I need all the friends I can get.  _ He thought, watching the handsome boy get in line again.  _ Ones who won’t try to kiss me.  _

 

Alex didn’t realize the irony of such an observation, as at the beginning of the year, he would have hoped for the exact opposite. Having a crowd of admirers was a nice self esteem boost, but one he was finally starting to outgrow.

 

* * *

 

John shivered as the breeze tickled his neck and arms, a slight wetness in the air that chilled him but wasn't quite enough to drive him back inside nor grab a jacket.

 

He was on the roof of his dorm hall, overlooking the empty courtyard and the bell tower which had just chimed once. One in the morning.

 

Getting up here was the hard part-he’d scaled the greenhouse and climbed an old fire escape to get up to the familiar spot, not worried about getting back down. The jump to the greenhouse roof might be rough on the ankles, but John had always been a little reckless with his body, and he was more than aware of it. It was how he had ended up with so many broken bones in high school. The _ easy _ part was stepping over the chain link fence between the flat part of the roof and the brick edge, nothing between him and the black sky.

 

John swung his legs over the side of the building now, swinging his feet over the abyss below him, eventually ending in a miniature looking sidewalk.  _ If I fell I would die.  _ He thought casually, gently pulling one of the two joints from his pocket he had carried up and a peach colored Bic lighter.

 

He put the white stick between his lips and, one hand shielding the end from the moist air, lit it and took a long drag, coughing a little without any shame. John was alone, nobody would question his stoner status if he hacked up a lung. 

 

Alex must have been born with some kind of weird super lungs, as he almost never coughed. The kid had a superiority complex about it, always teasing John if he so much as inhaled sharply.  _ Pretentious about everything.  _ John thought a little fondly, aware of how alone he was under the stars.

 

He rubbed the cheap plastic wrap that covered his lower arm absently, careful not to scratch more from experience than genuine cation. Henry Laurens often, when John got particularly good grades, wired his son a rather impressive allowance. John resented him for it sometimes, resented how he must seem like some little rich boy playing activist, going home to his privileged, cushioned life every summer. He had shoes in his closet worth more than an entire semester of textbooks. Having money was nice, of course, but John couldn't shake the guilt of not really having done anything to deserve it other than have the last name Laurens.

 

So he’d spent a portion of his blood money on a new tattoo; a simple black equal sign on his wrist.  _ In case my sexuality wasn't obvious enough.  _ It felt strangely liberating, even though John hadn’t been in the closet for some time. But now there would be no question, no need to come out over and over any time he met someone new. His body would do that for him.

 

He wondered what Alex would think of it, remembering when he had first showed the boy any of his tattoos

 

The first time Alex had seen John shirtless they were at a small lake about an hour outside John’s father’s house, the two lazily sunbathing on the grass as Alex complained loudly about mosquitoes. John was in a tank top, not yet comfortable with his bare torso out for the world to see, and it had ridden up slightly past his stomach. In retrospect, John wondered if Alex had been checking him out to have noticed the small tattoo.  _ Nah, prolly just glanced over. _

 

“Hey.” He had said suddenly, rolling on his side to face John. “Is that a tattoo?”

 

John had forgotten about the little writing above his hip until he felt Alex’s fingers trace the words  _ you'll be fine,  _ in a long thin font. It had taken him several moments to recover the power of speech, fighting the urge to flinch from his friend’s touch because it was too much to handle, Alex’s hands on his skin.

 

“Yeah. I uh, got it behind my dad’s back in middle school. It's stick and poke.”

 

“Oh that's so fucking cool.” Alex had beamed at him. “Stick and poke tattoos are amazing! It's how indigenous cultures used to tattoo their warriors and I mean can you imagine? Having to sit still for hours while a needle and a rock were-”

 

“Alex,” John had smiled at him fondly. “Let me clarify. When I say stick and poke I don't mean eighth grade John Laurens was culturally or aesthetically aware and went to some studio. I mean I took a sewing needle and some pens into my dad’s garage and did it myself.” 

 

Alex’s mouth formed a small o of surprise that had only lasted a heartbeat before his Cheshire cat grin returned, aimed at John and John alone.

 

“Well, that's pretty badass.”

 

“Yeah?” John had asked shyly. It had been freshman year, in the midst of him falling hopelessly in love with his best friend the more he learned about him, John practically aching for Alex’s approval. “I have more….if you want to see.”

 

Alex had vehemently nodded and John had given the boy a tour of his body; an Aries symbol interwoven with the Scorpio symbol on his ankle (“For my mother.” He’d explained softly and said nothing more.), a small doodle- looking turtle on his thigh, and his most recent and favorite, John tugging off the tank top completely to reveal,- a large symbol of a raised fist on his shoulder with the words ‘RISE UP’ under it in all caps. Alex had spent the most time examining that one, outlining it with his fingertips, John facing the other way and holding his breath.

 

_ He’d like this one.  _ John thought fondly, trying not to let the sweet memory grow tainted with bitter regret, as all his thoughts of Alex had been lately.

 

By now he had a nice buzz going, high enough to be relaxed but not so much that he wouldn't be able to maneuver his way back to the ground. John tilted his head up towards the New York sky, able to discern only a few specks of white amid the thick clouds of pollution. Still, he smiled.

 

“Mom,” He said out loud, eyes still skyward. “I don't know what to do.”

 

As usual, the cosmos offered no response. He went on regardless.

 

“I keep changing and I barely even recognize myself these days.” The light from a plane twinkled by before vanishing into a cloud. “I….I don't want to outgrow my friends. I don't want to outgrow the things I want. But I don't  _ know _ what I want.”

 

A breeze swept by him, gently blowing his hair into his face, but this time the air was warm. Comforting.  _ If you were here, would you be proud of me?  _ He thought, closing his eyes to savor the sensation.

 

“I don't know what to do about Alex.” He confessed softly as the breeze died down. “He’s my best friend, but we’ve never been friends without me being in love with him. And now he won't even talk to me so….maybe it's for the best? Maybe it's over.” He tried to speak the words with finality he didn't feel, begging the stars to grant him closure, but a hollow feeling was his only response. “Is it possible to fall out of love with somebody? Or does the love just go somewhere else inside you? I don't think people can have less love, only more. So where did my feelings for Alex go?”

 

_ Nowhere. They are right here. _ The thought was almost audible and he shook his head, suddenly smiling. 

 

“I'm not high enough for this shit.” He mumbled to himself, laughing a little, and the sound echoed across the roof as he lit his second joint.

 

_ I'm so lonely, I'm talking to ghosts.  _ He scolded himself, ignoring the guilt that ebbed at him at the thought. John hadn't talked to his mom in years, since moving to New York. Since he grew up.  _ You're too old for imaginary friends.  _ He took a long drag, closing his eyes to block out his own mind, to no avail.  _ Your mom is dead and on top of that, you never met her. The stars won't help you John. The only ones who help us are ourselves. _

 

John finished his smoke quickly, barely even enjoying it, and shoved his lighter in his pocket to begin the trek back to the ground. Another breeze encompassed him, warm and sweet smelling and he ignored it, leaping to the greenhouse roof and cringing at the pain in his ankles. Some things were just unavoidable. 

 

* * *

 

“Professor?” The door was open but Alex still rapped his knuckles against it politely, peeking his head around the corner.

 

“Alexander.” Washington looked surprised but smiled brightly, waving him forward. “Come in come in.”

 

Alex stepped inside, tension tightening his muscles. He was happy to see the professor, one of the first teachers on campus to really make him feel his education was worthwhile, but he couldn't fully return the grin.  _ This is the room where Laf was attacked. _

 

He couldn't practically feel it radiating off the walls; his friend’s terror. The reason he heard Laf sob sometimes in his sleep. Alex wondered, almost nauseous, if he was standing where Laf had stood when those hateful boys knocked the wind out of him, sent the strongest person Alex knew crumpling like a rag doll.

 

Alex had been here right after the attack, when he’d awkwardly confronted Washington about whether or not he was sleeping with Lafayette. Yet he hadn’t had the time to watch the effects of that night on Laf, and now the room held a far more ominous tone.  _ And here you are again, for essentially the same reason. _

 

As if sensing his discomfort, the professor shifted in his chair and spoke again, despite only a few seconds having passed between his last sentence and Alex’s silence.

 

“I don't have you in any classes this semester, unfortunately, so I didn't expect to see you around. What do you need Alexander? Some advising?”

 

Alex looked up slowly, his present mission returning to him and he shook his head to clear it.

 

“Actually, sir,” The words felt dry and heavy on his lips. “I'm not here about school. I….I need to ask you a favor.”

 

“Sure.” The professor raised an eyebrow quizzically, setting the pen in his hand down to interlace his fingers and look intently at Alex. “What can I do for you son?”

 

“I want you to leave Lafayette alone.” He said, forcing himself to meet the professor’s gaze.

 

The morning after the debate club party, Alexander had walked home with a wicked hangover, wanting to just crawl under the new sheets Laf had bought him and sleep through the rest of the weekend.

 

Alex was granted no such reprieve, however, unlocking the door to meet the sight of his terribly cliche roommate in nothing but his boxers, clutching a tub of butter pecan ice cream, and demolishing it with a clear plastic fork, red rimmed eyes on the television.

 

“Date with the professor went that well huh?” He’d said by way of greeting, but Laf didn't even glance his direction.

 

Now genuinely concerned rather than just vaguely amused by Laf’s dramatics, he had knelt down in front of him.

 

“Laf? You completely catatonic or just want to be alone?” Slowly, coming out of a haze, Laf’s eyes had drifted to Alex and the boy had sniffed loudly.

 

“I'm so stupid Alex.” He had whimpered miserably and Alex sighed, abandoning all hopes of his post hangover nap, and crawled onto the couch beside Laf.

 

Immediately his best friend’s head dropped to Alex’s chest, Alex sliding an arm around his shoulders and debating wrestling the fork away from him but ultimately deciding against it. The container was three fourths of the way empty already, if Laf wanted that ice cream Alex wasn't going to lose a hand trying to stop him.

 

“You're not stupid.” Alex said, not needing context to make the call. Laf shoved another forkful into his mouth of what Alex thought was a truly disgusting ice cream flavor and sighed deeply.

 

“I am. George came over for the dinner but there was some emergency with his ex wife so he had to immediately fly out to Virginia. And I know-” His voice shook slightly and Alex had tightened his grip on him. “-that it's not a big deal. It's not like he stood me up. But I feel like such an  _ idiot _ . I had all my hopes pinned on that night, ya know?”

 

Alex did know. And he tried to remind himself of how it had felt with Laf curled into his chest, depressed and watching Sex and the City re runs, as he stared into the surprised eyes of the man he probably respected more than anyone.

 

_ Had  _ respected.

 

“What?” Washington said after a moment and, to his credit, he looked terribly embarrassed. 

 

“I would like for you to leave Lafayette alone.” It was even harder to say a second time, but Alex raised his chin defiantly. The professor’s gaze grew stern.

 

“Alexander, I believe we already had this discussion at the beginning of the semester.” Alex tried not to cringe at the memory, when he had blatantly accused the man of hooking up with a student.  _ If he felt the same way about Laf that would probably be easier.  _ “I don't presume to know what you have assumed about the nature of my friendship with Gilbert, but there is nothing more to it than that. Friendship.” The professor’s tone was a cross between lecturing and discomfort. Alex crossed his arms.

 

The shift he was feeling was strange; he had always admired and looked up to the professor. But what could his excuse possibly be for leading on a  _ student _ of his, someone half his age?

 

“I find this exchange incredible inappropriate.” Washington said after a moment and Alex looked up sharply.

 

“You messing around with Laf’s feelings is inappropriate.” He replied and Washington’s eyes grew wide. 

 

“Alexander, I don't want to have to ask you to leave.” 

 

“Look,” Alex’s voice grew softer, switching tactics. “I know you aren't blind George. Maybe it's friendship to you….but don't pretend like you don't know how Lafayette feels about you. Has  _ always  _ felt.” Alex wondered maybe, the second the words left his lips, if he shouldn't have said that. If maybe George  _ didn't  _ know how Laf felt.

 

“It's a harmless infatuation.” George said after an awkward silence, cheeks darkening. “He’ll get over it.”

 

“When you left the other night, he was  _ crushed.”  _ Alex stepped further into the room. “And that was just after cancelled dinner plans. Imagine how crushed he’ll be when he realizes the two of you can never be together.” 

 

_ Oh god.  _ A thought struck Alex with suddenness and sharpness of a bullet, the professor’s eyes growing sad and resigned.  _ He’s lonely. He likes to be around Laf because he's lonely. _

 

_ Well my best friend won't pay the price for his mid life crisis. I'm sorry George, but I won't let Lafayette be your John.  _

 

“You must care about him a lot,” The professor said very softly. “To stand up for him like this.”

 

“I do.” Alex said curtly, his wave of confidence beginning to ebb away, and he wanted to leave before it dissipated completely. Standing up to authority, he had no issues with. But standing up to the man he had hero worshiped his freshman year was something else entirely. “Th- thank you for your time.”

 

He turned to leave but the professor’s voice stopped him.

 

“Alex. Does...does Gilbert know you’re here?” He asked quietly and Alex didn't turn around, pondering his intentions, not wanting to face the second new and painful thought to occur to him in this office.

 

_ He wants to know if Lafayette sent me. Could he….could he feel the same for Laf too?  _

 

_ Oh god, did I just ruin it for Laf? Am I even doing the right thing? _

 

“No.” Alex looked at the professor curiously. “He would never have let me speak on his behalf.” The two smiled at one another fondly for a very brief second, each picturing how the headstrong Laf would react to being told what to do. Alex quickly coughed. “Thank you professor and goodbye.”

 

_ Don't be an idiot Alex. This is George Washington we’re talking about. He wouldn't do something as stupid as to get a crush on his student. _

 

He didn't really believe himself, but he vowed to never tell Lafayette his suspicions. Not ever.   
  


* * *

“Gil? What do you want?” Adrienne said in clipped French, as if in the middle of something, and Laf was tempted to hang up.

 

“I just….” He drifted off, not even sure  _ why _ he had called her. Adrienne must have recognized something in his tone, however, as he heard a shifting sound and then a much quieter background, the only sound her silver bell voice.

 

“Is everything alright Gil?” She asked in a hushed tone and he inhaled shakily. 

 

“I…I miss you Addie.” He said, looking around as if Alex might suddenly come home. “I think I made a mistake. I think everything was a mistake. Leaving France, coming to America…..leaving you.”

 

There was silence on the other end and he shut his eyes in anticipation of her response, his palm clutching the phone growing clammy. He was curled up on his couch, one arm around his knees, attempting to control his breathing. Lafayette wasn't going to call this a panic attack, he was  _ not _ . But the way his mouth was dry and his pulse was thumping in his neck seemed to disagree.

 

“Gilbert.” Her voice sounded strained. “Do not say things like that. Not if you don't mean them. What happened?”  _ What happened is nothing here is going the way it was supposed to. Two of my best friends aren't talking and my other best friend is leaving me. Everyone leaves me. And George….the only man I have ever loved doesn't want me. He left. The one time I deluded myself into thinking I had a chance, and he left. _

 

“I do mean it Addie.” He said, forcing his voice to be steady. “I want to come back. I want us to start over.”

 

“Gil-”

 

“I could love you again.” He said softly, eyes on the door. “I could. I know that I-”

 

“Gilbert.” Her tone was sharp and final, daring him to interrupt her. “You don't love me anymore, and you won't again. We both know that. You can't try and use how we once felt about each other to feel better just because your life is shitty.”

 

He blinked, heart rate slowing down, and his breath caught at the harshness of her words.  _ What did you expect? She's never been an angel. _

 

“Did you mature overnight or something?” He grumbled, sitting up straight. “Last time I saw you, you practically threw yourself at me.”

 

“I met someone.” She said simply. 

 

_ Oh.  _ It was no real loss, as he felt nothing romantically for the girl if he was being honest. But recently he had begun seeing her as a possibility. A last resort, his safety net. If nobody else ever loved him, he could always crawl back to Adrienne. She was supposed to always be waiting for him, just in case.  _ In case you want to run again, like you always do when things don’t go your way. _

 

“Well,” He said stiffly. “I'm happy for you. Do I know him?”

 

“No.” Her tone shifted to a softness he hadn't expected from her. “You don't know  _ her _ .”

 

“You’re…?” It was all Laf could manage to say, nearly dropping the phone. 

 

“It would seem so.” Adrienne sounded terribly amused. “Your little princess is bisexual. Or maybe pan. This is so new.”

 

“And here I thought, after eloping with a black man, you had run out of ways to disappoint your parents.” He shooked his head and she laughed loudly, a wheezing sound he had always taunted her for, and it made the corners of his lips raise a little.

 

“You asshole.” She said fondly, then sighed. “Gilbert, now I'm a little worried about you.”

 

“Don't worry about me.” He said calmly, knowing the second he hung up the phone it was likely he might start crying over George again, the loss of Adrienne as his backup plan a fresh slap in the face. “I want to meet this girl. See if she could actually tame the untameable.”

 

“We’ll see.” Adrienne sounded unconvinced but a muffled voice shouted something indecipherable behind her and she sighed. “Speaking of, I’d better go.”

 

“Yeah.” He said with false cheer. “Don't leave your lady waiting. I'll call you later, okay?”

 

“Okay.” She said, tone regretful, and he hung up before she could say anything else.

 

He scrolled through his phone contacts, wondering who else he could call. Wondering if anybody else would answer, or if he would just be alone.  _ Herc and John are in class. Alex is off with some guy. And….that’s it. Do I even have any other friends? _

 

He let out a little sob before covering his mouth, forcing the misery back down his throat.  _ Thomas and James might be free. _ He thought, but by now his self pity had grown too overpowering to make the effort of clicking either of their contact pictures.  _ It's better I'm alone anyway. It's always better this way. _

 

He curled up and turned his back to the doorway, face buried in the couch cushions, and shut his eyes until sleep mercifully descended.

 

* * *

 

“I'm not sure I fully understand the merits of baking.” Eliza said, examining her face in a hand mirror as Theodosia finished applying the thick white power to her face, clicking her tongue.

 

“It's for highlight that won't wear away during the day.” She replied offhand, focused on her sponge as she tilted Eliza gently by the chin. “Although, I've never worked with skin as light as yours, so let's see how this goes.” Angelica snorted.

 

“Usually I hear the inverse.” She was sitting cross legged on Theo’s bed, her own face already coated with the same power on Theodosia’s. “This lady at Sephora tried to do my foundation and I was fucking yellow.” 

 

Eliza giggled, shaking her head slightly, and Theo sternly held her steady.

 

“You are so fidgety girl.” She said fondly. “No wonder you don't wear makeup, I can't see you sitting still long enough to apply it.” Eliza laughed and shrugged.

 

“I save it for special occasions. My roommate wear enough for both of us.”

 

“Ah yes,” Angelica put away her phone, which Eliza noticed the girl had been staring at religiously, and looked at her sister. “How is miss Maria?” 

 

Eliza felt her cheeks heat up slightly and leaned more towards Theo, trying to hide from her all knowing older sister. 

 

“Fine.” She shrugged with forced casualness. “We’ve been hanging out a lot lately.”

 

“Invite her next time.” Theo offered, finishing Eliza’s power and patting the empty chair beside them. “Angie come back, you're good for me to apply concealer now.”

 

“Hold on.” Angelica was tapping away furiously on her phone and the other two exchanged knowing looks.

 

Eliza had heard about Angie and Thomas, ironically enough, from Alexander rather than her own sister. Eliza felt terrible for Angelica, who would never admit how badly she was pining after Thomas…..but Eliza wasn't quite sure how she felt about the rest of it. 

 

_ She kissed Alexander. Angie isn't the sort to just kiss people, she's an ice queen. So what did that kiss mean?  _ Eliza knew exactly what it meant; it meant that Angelica had feelings for Alex.  _ Her  _ Alex. And while Eliza was 80% sure she felt nothing for the boy but friendship anymore, the notion still stung. She didn't know whether to feel betrayed, or foolish.  _ What if she liked him all along and you stole him? What if you're not as selfless as you like to think you are? _

 

“Who ya texting there Angel?” Theo asked gently and Eliza arched an eyebrow at the nickname, swallowing a little tinge of jealousy. The girls had grown weirdly close in a short amount of time, but Eliza was grateful to have been invited to their little makeup session. She never wanted a point to come in her life where her sister wasn't her best friend.

 

“Nobody.” She snapped harshly, then slowly sighed at the obvious pity in their eyes. “Thomas. He’s being stubborn. He just reads my texts without replying. He’s leaving me on  _ read _ .” 

 

“He'll come around.” Theo said with soft certainty, patting the seat again, and Angelica reluctantly walked over, leaving her phone face down on the bed.

 

Eliza watched, entranced, as Theodosia applied various eyeshadow shades to her sister’s lids, Angelica transforming before her eyes. She reached towards a discarded poptart on the dresser- hers from maybe an hour ago- and nibbled the edges.

 

“Theo,” She asked, the girl raising her eyebrows in response but not looking away. “How did you get YouTube famous?” The girl cracked a huge smile.

 

“I think you're giving me a lot of credit sweetie. I'm not famous, it's just a little makeup vlog.”

 

“Uh,” Angelica pushed Theo’s hand away to speak. “You are definitely internet famous girl. I posted a pic of us on instagram and your  _ fan accounts _ started following me.” Theo snorted, looking bashful.

 

“I just like to be colorful.” She shrugged. “And a lot of people like seeing bigger girls putting themselves out there, being body positive.” Angelica nodded and Theo returned to her blending. 

 

“I have a question for you two.” Theo said after a moment, smiling softly to herself. “Are you guys like….step sisters or what?” Eliza looked over at Angelica and winked.

 

It was a question Eliza and Angelica as well as Eliza and Peggy were asked often, as there was clear differences in their heritage. They often played a little trick on whoever was asking, feigning cluelessness. 

 

“What do you mean?” Eliza blinked innocently, Theo immediately stuttering in embarrassment, and Angelica laughed.

 

“We have different moms.” She said, having mercy on Theodosia as she was their friend, not some nosy, borderline rude stranger. “Our dad is black, Eliza just doesn’t show it.”

 

“I'm mixed too.” Theo nodded, putting her brushes away to grab a stick of eyeliner. Eliza broke the poptart, now crust free, in half and shoved an entire piece into her mouth. “Half Polynesian. I actually grew up on Lanai until like, the sixth grade.”

 

“Isn't that the really small island?” Angelica asked and Theo looked both fond and sad.

 

“Yeah, only one school on the entire island. Everybody knew  _ everybody _ .”

 

“I would've liked to grow up somewhere small.” Eliza crossed her legs, dusting the crumbs off her lap. “I've only left New York like, once.”

 

“And that was a cruise.” Angelica agreed.

 

Beside Eliza, Angie’s phone let out a loud buzz, and the girl practically shoved Theo away to rush at it. The other two girls frowned in disapproval at the way Angelica’s eyes lit up as her fingers danced across the screen but then quickly died, and she tossed the phone aside.

 

“It was just Peggy.” She grumbled, laying back on the bed, and Eliza placed a hand over hers. 

 

“Angelica.” She said in a gentle voice, struggling to think of more to say. What comfort could she offer? When Eliza had been dating Alex and he’d kissed John…..she’d felt like a complete idiot. Eliza hadn't wanted to see him again, ever.  _ But I got over it, can't Thomas? _

 

“I just…” The girl on the bed trailed off, voice wavering, and Theo sighed.

 

“Don't cry, it'll smudge your makeup.”

 

“I'm just so mad at myself.” Angelica sat up, blinking hard to clear her eyes of potential tears. “The one time I actually bother to put effort into a relationship and it all goes to shit.”

 

“But you didn't bother.” Eliza almost whispered, her sister’s head whipping around to face her. “Not really.”  _ Everyone knew Thomas was just your lapdog. Even I wasn't sure how you felt about him, so how could he be sure? _

 

“What do you mean?” Angelica asked, eyes narrowing, and just as Eliza opened her mouth to reply a sweet and loud song filled the room.

 

“Hello?” Theo answered her phone immediately, twirling a dreadlock around her finger absentmindedly. “Yeah babe. No. No I was just…..Yeah. Yeah okay.” The conversation was thick with long pauses, the voice on the other end barely audible but chittering away at lightning speed. “Okay. I will. Can I-Jack. Jack can I call you back? Because I'm with friends.” Theo glanced at them apologetically and lowered her voice. “.....The ones I  _ told  _ you about. Angelica and her…..Schuyler. Why? Okay okay sorry. Yes, I'll call tonight. Love you too.” She hung up and closed her eyes, rubbing her temples.

 

“Uh, boyfriend troubles?” Angelica asked dryly.

 

“Fiance.” Theo snapped back almost immediately, then cringed. “Sorry, conditioned response. Yeah that was Jack.”

 

“Everything okay?” Eliza asked, standing up as Theo beckoned her over for her turn for the makeup. 

 

“Yeah.” Eliza closed her eyes as Theo spread some kind of cold cream across her face, the sensation soothing. “He can just be a little...controlling. Which I get.” She said quickly. Too quickly. “It's hard for him to not be with me all the time, he feels left out of my life. He doesn't get why I came back to New York.” She mumbled the last part to herself, shaking her head. “So it makes Jack feel better if I tell him everything I do and who I'm with, as if he’s with me.” Theo said sweetly. “But I  _ always _ forget.”

 

“Sounds controlling.” Angelica mumbled and Theo’s smile tightened, the hand now swiping shades of pink along Eliza’s cheekbones freezing for an instant.

 

“It's not that.” Theo said, not looking up. “It's just….hard for us to be apart. We’re used to being together  _ every day _ and we’re still adjusting. Once I graduate we get married so, we didn't think we would have to get used to being away from each other.”

 

Eliza nodded but something about her words sounded…..off. As if Theo were an actor who wasn't very good in a show, reciting the script almost mechanically.  _ Like she doesn't believe the words.  _ But Eliza dismissed the notion quickly. Who was she to make judgement calls on a man she had never met? Theodosia knew what she was doing.

 

“Alright.” Theo announced after several minutes of comfortable silence aside from Eliza’s phone playing lyricless music. “You're finished. Now just me and we can take some  _ bomb _ pictures.”

 

Eliza turned to face herself in the mirror and gasped; she was  _ gorgeous.  _ Eliza knew well enough that she was already very pretty naturally, but Theo was an artist. The way the colors complimented Eliza’s eyes and skin were hypnotic.  _ I look better than I did at my prom. _

 

She shyly remembered when she had first seen Maria without makeup, the girl usually refusing to leave the bathroom let alone the dorm with anything less than a full face. Eliza had thought she was  _ stunning. _

 

“Hey guys,” She remained in the chair as Theo faced herself in the mirror and Angelica glared at her phone. Neither girl was looking at her, making the process easier. “Can I tell you something?”

 

Both girls hummed their affirmation and Eliza squirmed nervously in her seat.

 

“I uh…..I think I'm bi?” She said, cringing at how her voice lilted at the end, as if it were a question.  _ Stop hiding.  _ “I mean,” She took a breath, both now facing her. “I don't  _ think _ . I  _ know. _ ”

 

“Really?” Angelica was beaming, the tension dissolving from Eliza almost immediately. “Liza, I'm so happy for you. Boys are shit, this opens up a whole new dating pool of people who could ever actually deserve you.” Eliza laughed awkwardly, cheeks pink at her praise, and Theo put her hand on hers warmly.

 

“How long have you known girl?” She asked, sensing Eliza’s uncertainty, and the girl shrugged.

 

“I've been wondering for a while but I think I  _ knew _ …..like a week ago.” Theo nodded.

 

“Thanks for telling us ‘Liza. Are you  _ out _ out yet or is it still secret?” Eliza hadn't thought about it.

 

“I have nothing to hide….I’d just rather tell Maria before it becomes general knowledge. She's been my best friend for a long time, she should know first.”

 

“Oh god.” Angelica’s eyes grew wide, something dawning on her. “You two aren't secretly dating, are you?”

 

“What?!” Eliza went pink. “No I…..No.” She took a breath to compose herself, the other girls smirking at how flustered she had become. “We are  _ roommates _ .” She said with finality, as though that were some grand explanation, and Angelica burst out laughing.

 

“Roommates.” Theo repeated, giggling, and spun around in her chair, her face now complete and completely stunning. Eliza made a mental note to subscribe to her YouTube channel, envisioning getting to look like this every day. 

 

“Okaaaay.” Angelica sang, tone teasing, and Eliza crossed her arms, cheeks completely red now. “But methinks the lady doth protest a bit too strongly.”

 

“That's not the expression.” Eliza said, huffing at the two giggling at her. “ Oh just shut up and get your camera ready.”

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: hey so clear your schedule we are having dinner tonight

slice of ham: I have midterms coming up

french toast: you're my best friend, I need this

slice of ham: fine fine what time do you want me home

slice of ham: having to wake up everyday to take the subway to school is a bitch, i would like you to note

french toast: I know dipshit I'm there with you

french toast: 7pm

slice of ham: I'll be there

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: mon amie! I haven't seen you in a while, dinner tonight? Just us two?

john tortoise: sure laf! What about olive garden?

french toast: come over and I'll cook. Saves money

french toast: does 7 work for you?

john tortoise: 7 is perfect!

 

* * *

 

 

Lafayette was tired of his own life feeling out of control, so he had decided to do what he was best at; controlling  _ other  _ people’s lives.

 

_ Those goddamn idiots are so stubborn, they’ll never talk again if I don't intervene. _

 

True to his promise of providing dinner, Lafayette had bought a pizza and was now, at 6:45, waiting spread out on the sofa for his boys to arrive, the puppets in his game of puppet master.

 

_ I wonder if I’ll have to physically lock them in a room together to get them to talk.  _

 

The doorbell rang, a painful echo of his short night with George, and Laf cringed and shook his head, glancing at his phone. 6:50. If Laf could count on anything, it was that John Laurens was always early, and Alexander Hamilton was always late.

 

“Come in come in.” He said to John, practically dragging the boy inside, glancing around the hallway before shutting the door behind them firmly. Laf accurately suspected that if Alex saw John, he would guess Laf’s tricks and not how up until well into the night.

 

“Hey Laf.” John looked both amused and confused but, thankfully, not at all suspicious. “You invite me over to save money, but buy a pizza?”

 

“What?” Laf asked, distracted as he watched John sit on the couch, then cleared his throat for a cool recovery. “Ah well, the oven broke so I-”

 

The sound of a key turning in the lock interrupted him and he watched John quickly go stiff and almost jump to his feet.

 

“Oh no. I-I shouldn’t-”

 

“Okay so since I’m missing out on  _ valuable  _ study time for this there better be some wine left in the cupboard or I’m……” It was almost comical, the way Alex abruptly shut his mouth when his eyes landed on John. Laf glanced between them quickly, Alex’s gaze growing hard.

 

“I didn’t know you’d be home.” John said weakly, eyebrows raised in a pleading gesture. Alex turned to glare at Laf and the boy felt the full force of his roommate’s anger on him. He had planned for this; Herc was waiting in the car downstairs for Laf’s quick getaway. He just had to ensure the two would actually  _ talk  _ first.

 

“I’m sure you didn't.” Alex’s voice was rough as he responded to John without even glancing at him. “But  _ he  _ did. He set us up.”

 

“I did.” Lafayette forced his voice louder than came naturally to him, both boys startling at the sound of it. “You two having been acting like selfish idiots and I’m sick of it-No. Don’t interrupt me Alex.” He crossed his arms, giving the boy a stern look until Alex reluctantly nodded. “You two are best friends, and you need to fucking talk it out. This isn’t elementary school, and you’re making life really hard on Herc and I. We don’t need it.”

 

He felt an incredible satisfaction at the twin looks of guilt they both sported and slowed down to take a breath, only able to hope that he was reaching the two numbskulls.

 

“Please,” He said softly. “ _ Please  _ just talk to each other. I don’t care if you decide to stay friends or to get married-” They turned pink. “-or to become each other’s arch enemies. Just fucking talk it out. Okay?” Laf gave them both demanding looks until each nodded, and he finally relaxed. “I’m leaving.”

 

“Laf-” Alex whined and Lafayette glared at him.

 

“I’m going out with Herc and you two are gonna stay here and talk.” He said in a no nonsense tone. “Figure it out.”

 

Both nodded, still refusing to look at one another, and Laf gave them individual stares to ensure they would obey. Alexander looked resigned but determined, for which Laf was relieved. Alex could be stubborn but, beyond anything, he was loyal. If Lafayette asked him to do this, he would do it.  _ Even if it kills him.  _

 

But John looked nothing but grateful towards Lafayette, biting back a small. Laf knew John had been wanting to make amends with Alex ever since the kiss, but he wasn’t bold enough to push on his own.

 

_ What else am I good for, if not meddling? _

 

“Talk.” He said as his farewell, holding up a finger sternly before leaving and locking the door behind him. Now, he could only hope.

 

* * *

 

“Alex.” 

 

It was several long moments after the sound of the door closing behind Laf that John spoke, forcing Alexander to finally turn and face him. John looked handsome as ever, if not a little broken and  _ fuck  _ did that sting and feel good all at once.  _ He’s broken over me. Well good, then I haven’t been suffering alone.  _ Alex felt traitorous for enjoying his name on John’s tongue, the way the boy spoke it fast and a little bit desperately, as if afraid Alex would stop him. 

 

“I'm sorry.”John said.

 

He didn't beg or plead for forgiveness, he didn't have to. His entire body, his posture his eyes his clenched hands, all did for him. 

 

And Alex was  _ tired.  _ He was mad at John, so mad at him for making him feel used and disposable. He was mad at John for choosing Nathan over him. He was mad at John for making Alex love him only to be so far out of reach, so unfairly unobtainable. He wanted to make John squirm. He wanted to hold his forgiveness over the boy’s head and make him jump for it, make him jump through hoops to get Alex back. John had made Alex miserable, and even in his love for the boy, a part of him wanted to watch John be miserable too.

 

But he was just so tired. He was tired of not being able to text John something he’d seen on tumblr that he knew would make the boy laugh hysterically. He was tired of not cuddling up with the boy, blissfully high, and watching stupid cartoons. He was tired of not having his best friend with him.

 

He wanted to tell John to fuck off, to watch his face fall and push past him into his room, ignoring his pleas and crying. But eventually, John would get the message. He would stop trying, he would dissolve from Alex’s life. And Alex didn't want that.

 

_ I'm tired of being angry. I'm tired of not having you by my side. I hurt you and you hurt me. I'm tired of keeping score and dreaming up revenge. I'm tired of being Alex without John.  _

 

So he sighed and met John’s gaze, not even making the boy wait a full minute before simply extending his arms. He wanted to sound stern and benevolent but when he spoke, his voice cracked.

 

“Come here you idiot.” 

 

John gasped and, hesitating only slightly, disbelief and an agonizing hope coloring his gaze, he rushed across the room to Alex and wrapped his arms around him with such force that both stumbled backwards, breathless and too afraid of the power they held over one another to laugh.

 

“Alexander.” It came out as a sigh, John clutching the fabric on the back on Alex’s shirt and hiding his face in his neck. Alex felt a wetness on John’s face and became acutely aware of the tears pricking his own eyes. “I am  _ so  _ sorry. I just-”

 

“I forgive you John.” Alex needed an excuse to shut him up and an excuse to say his name, his favorite syllable. But as he spoke it he knew he meant it.  _ I forgive you. It's over. I forgive you.  _ “If...if you forgive me too.”

 

“Forgive  _ you _ ?” John pulled back to look at Alex’s face, dangerously close, and laughed bitterly. “Forgive you for  _ what _ ?”

 

“I always knew.” He blurted. “I always knew that you...how you felt about me. And I didn't care. I...I liked the way you fawned over me.” It was the most painful confession Alex had ever made, and he felt shame heat his cheeks yet there was a little bit of pride there too.  _ I can finally admit it. I'm a real fucking slime but I know it now. I changed.  _ “I...I intentionally lead you on.” A tear broke free from his eye and his stomach felt like lead when he felt John take a slight step back from him. “I'm sorry. God, I know it's awful to say but you need to hear it all. We've both idolized each other too much. You need to know the worst before we forgive each other completely.”

 

John nodded, his gaze absent and pained, and Alex went on.

 

“I knew I didn't want to date you, but I didn't want you to get over me. I  _ needed _ your love John.” He was staring at the floor, breathing heavily. “And now I need your forgiveness.”

 

“It's yours.” John said without hesitation and Alex’s head snapped back up, tears blurring his vision. “Now can I go, since you hijacked my apology?” 

 

Alex let out a little gasping laugh, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand roughly, and John smiled at him hesitantly. 

 

“I….I liked Nathan a lot.” Alex nodded, forcing himself to listen, swallowing heavily. “And I let myself get caught up in that. Too caught up in it. And I'm sorry. I don't regret dating him but I shouldn't…” He took a shaking breath and Alex wanted to reach out to him but he couldn't quite yet. Not until he was finished. “You shouldn't have been the price of that. I get what Nathan wanted. He wanted space for me to get over you. But I should've found another way. I...I should have done it on my own terms.” His eyes were resolute and his voice grew stronger, more sure of himself. “I hurt both of you. You and Nathan, the last two people I wanted to hurt. And I almost lost you both. I thought I could control myself by controlling you and...well, I couldn't.” He locked eyes with Alex. “And I'm sorry. And about the kiss I-”

 

“Let's talk about that part later.” Alex interrupted, tone casual, but he knew John would read his silent plea.  _ Please, can we talk about it later? I can't now. I'm vulnerable and it'll all come tumbling out if we say it now. Don't make me say it. _

 

“Okay.” John said, drying his own tears. “So you...you accept my apology then?”

 

“Yes.” Alex smiled at him. “Yes, fuck. I just want my best friend back.”

 

And at that both boys were crying again, this time with hesitant laughter and an inability to tear their eyes apart.

 

“I was….” Alex knew it all had been said, all except the thing he needed to say most. “I was so afraid that once you stopped loving me, you'd realize what a terrible person I am.”

 

“You're my best friend, I'll never stop loving you.” John said softly, both of them knowing that wasn't what Alex meant. 

 

“Want to go get some coffee or something?” John asked after a long moment and Alex laughed, the familiarity of the question as warm as a well loved winter coat. The pizza looked inviting, but they needed to leave that apartment. It was clouded with emotion, Alex couldn’t think straight.

 

“Yes. God, yes. You don't know how  _ sick _ I've gotten of Laf trying to save money that  _ he has plenty of  _ by brewing our own shit instant coffee.”

 

John laughed and Alex grabbed his jacket and wallet, linking arms with the boy as they left the apartment. 

 

_ You're still in love with him.  _ An annoying, intrusive voice reminded him.  _ And you've both changed in the time apart. You live in the city now, John has experienced life away from you. Everything's different. Everything has to change. _

 

But Alexander decided, walking in semi comfortable, semi awkward silence with his best friend, that they could deal with it later. For now, this would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so something I wanted to note about this fanfiction:
> 
> It was recently brought to my attention how young a lot of the hamilfans are so I felt the need to clarify that the John/Alex relationship in this fic, up until this chapter, is NOT in any way a portrayl of a healthy or cute romantic relationship or friendship. It isn't meant to be. My intention for this fic was for the two of them to start out totally wrong for one another and eventually have to grow as people to be in each other's lives. Alex was selfish and manipulative and John didn't have any desires of his own outside of alex. They've changed a LOT and still are changing, but this is a fanfiction. If somebody is manipulating or taking advantage of your love in any way gtfo, don't keep any toxic relationships in your life and dont romanticize them. 
> 
> thats all, I just felt like I had to make that clear, especially that I dont advocate for abusive relationships irl. 
> 
> please comment, as they nourish me xoxoxoxox


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all I am SO SORRY at how eternally long this update took. If you're still reading at this point honestly bless your heart, I feel terrible. I had finals, followed by getting a second job so it has been pretty hectic but now it's summer and I will try to do better!!  
> Just know, if it's any consolation, I have no plans whatsoever to abandon this fic, no matter how long my updates end up taking.  
> Also, in my eagerness to give y'all a new chapter, this one is a tad shorter than usual. I decided to just push come unfinished bits (marliza heyo) to the next chapter.

french toast: ladies and gentlemen

zero to hero: what ladies

french toast: homos and heteros

slice of ham: wait did herc come out as straight

french toast: friends and loved ones

john tortoise: why are you so extra

french toast: stop fucking interrupting me you goddamn little shits

french toast: May I continue

slice of ham: I'm sorry are we allowed to respond

slice of ham: or would that be interrupting you

french toast: there are not enough curses in english and in french to express how i feel for you

slice of ham: <3

french toast: ANYWAY THE GROUP CHAT IS BACK that's it that's my speech

john tortoise: new and improved

zero to hero: improved how

john tortoise: improved bc I muted the notifications so my phone isnt buzzing nonstop during class(:

slice of ham: john

slice of ham: john I'm wounded

 

zero to hero changed the name of the group chat to: alex we all have your texts muted

 

slice of ham: WHAT THE FUCK

french toast: you talk too much

slice of ham: john tell me not you too

john tortoise: uhhhhhhhhhhh ummmmm

slice of ham: I am….so betrayed

slice of ham: I talk the exact right amount for someone who has a lot of feeling

zero to hero: you certainly do not

slice of ham: what if I nEEDED YOU

french toast: when it's an emergency you always call

slice of ham: but but but

john tortoise: Babe you just talk so damn much

slice of ham: whelp if john says it it must be true

french toast: no fair he calls you babe and suddenly he gets a get out of jail free card

slice of ham: correct

john tortoise: correct

zero to hero: correct

french toast: alex I call you babe and you hide my shoes

slice of ham: no correlation. Those “shoes” aka clogs were ugly as fuck

french toast: :O

john tortoise: don't insult his culture

slice of ham: it's not his fucking culture he got them on ebay

french toast: I do not understand this american “ebay”

zero to hero: ebay is international

john tortoise: c'mon laf

slice of ham: you buy us our fuckin christmas presents on ebay

french toast: *etsy

slice of ham: dweeb

john tortoise: dweeb

slice of ham: AWWW WE SAID THAT AT THE SAME TIME

john tortoise: <3

zero to hero: friends who roast together stay together

slice of ham: you owe me $20 now john

john tortoise: okay 1. I'm pretty sure I just owe you a coke

john tortoise: 2. It only counts verbally so I don't owe you shit

 

slice of ham changed the group chat name to: john doesn’t fuck around with the rules of jinkx

 

zero to hero: you spelt jinx like the drag queen name instead of how it's actually spelled

french toast: I'M SCREAMING

french roast: WE HAVE NOW DISCOVERED THAT NOT ONLY DOES ALEXANDER WATCH RUPAUL’S DRAG RACE, BUT HERC DOES AS WELL

slice of ham: treat carefully laf

slice of ham: I feel very strongly about mama ru

john tortoise: I'm screaming too now

french toast: “mama ru” holy shit holy shit I'm wheezing

french toast: everyone get screenshots

slice of ham: Laf you can't make fun of me for something I'm not embarrassed by

french toast: THAT'S WHERE YOU'RE WRONG

john tortoise: notice how quiet herc is

zero to hero: alex made me

 

french toast changed the group chat name to: drag queen superfans

 

slice of ham: #justiceforkatya

john tortoise: tbh Laf I think you're the only one here who doesn't watch

french toast: wait

zero to hero: wait

slice of ham: WAIT

slice of ham: HOW HAVE WE NEVER WATCHED TOGETHER JOHN

john tortoise: I took it up recently

slice of ham: SO???

john tortoise: like, over break

french toast: ope

zero to hero: hey cool idea let's change the topic

slice of ham: why change the topic

slice of ham: now that I know we are all drag race fans, I'm organizing a viewing party

french toast: I've never seen it

slice of ham: *a viewing party that Laf isn't invited to

french toast: !!!!!

french toast: let me come!!

john tortoise: wow thank you for the invitation alex can't wait

zero to hero: yes I cannot wait to hang out with my two closest friends

slice of ham: you two are welcome :)

french toast: I hate you guys

french toast: I'm gonna leave the chat

john tortoise: perfect then we can discuss our picks for this season’s winner

zero to hero: I'll get the popcorn

french toast: alex I'm changing the locks on the apartment

slice of ham: my name is on the lease asshole

french toast: I mean what can that do in court are you even a citizen

slice of ham: are YOU

zero to hero: are any of us except john

slice of ham: Herc wtf you're an immigrant???

french toast: he was born in Ireland god it's like you don't even retain information that doesnt apply to you

slice of ham: not true I could name like everyone on john’s family tree even the crusty white side

john tortoise: gee I'm honored

zero to hero: that means none of us could run for president except john :/

french toast: I'd rather be known for having an affair with the president or something

slice of ham: JOHN

slice of ham: YOU HAVE TO RUN NOW

slice of ham: FOR ALL OF US

john tortoise: I have no desire to get into politics alexander

slice of ham: okay here's the plan:

slice of ham: just name drop your dad the entire election

french toast: wow

john tortoise: wow

slice of ham: and then when you win you don't even have to do anything. Just make me like, your treasurer and I'll run everything behind the scenes. I'll write your speeches, plan our budget

john tortoise: so I'm just the figurehead

slice of ham: yes

slice of ham: we need a pretty face in front of the camera

french toast: awww

slice of ham: and an even prettier face behind the scenes

john tortoise: I honestly hate you

zero to hero: okay back to the topic about alex not knowing anything about any of us whatsoever

slice of ham: I already disproved that theory bc i know about john’s family next

french toast: that doesnt count you basically live with him over break

zero to hero: hey hey alex

zero to hero: remember that one time you lived with thomas

zero to hero: I remember

john tortoise: I just fucking wish i could've seen it

slice of ham: hahaha well jokes on all of you bc me and thomas don't even hate each other any more

john tortoise: alex that's embarrassing

zero to hero: yeah do you really want to be known for being friends with thomas

french toast: yeah alex

john tortoise: laf you're like friend in love with him shut up

slice of ham: oh and guess what else guys(:

french toast: don't

slice of ham: laf and thomas have slept together

zero to hero: laf that's kinda gross

john tortoise: i didn't know thomas swung both ways I hate him a little less now

french toast: ALEXANDER HAMILTON

john tortoise: but honestly I'm not surprised

french toast: DO YOU WANT ME TO POINT OUT EVERY GREASEBALL YOU'VE SLEPT WITH

french toast: but for the record I am NOT embarrassed I had sex with Jefferson. It was very good

zero to hero: was it better than alex

john tortoise: I'm dead

john tortoise: like could you imagine if laf and Alex had ever hooked up

zero to hero: oh shit

slice of ham: yeah could you imagine

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: oh he doesnt know

slice of ham: the real question is HOW THE FUCK DOES HERC KNOW

french toast: I didn't know it was a secret

french toast: I am sorry

slice of ham: whatever it's fine i just don't want john finding out

french toast: is it because you are still trying to be his girlfriend

slice of ham: I loathe you

french toast: ;)

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: so hypothetically speaking if I watch rpdg what season should i start with

john tortoise: three

slice of ham: 4

john tortoise: alex what the fuck

slice of ham: he needs to start with jinkx. He needs to see the best

zero to hero: but sharon needles

slice of ham: go back to party city where you belong

john tortoise: I'm fucking

slice of ham: who are you fucking john

john tortoise: dead

john tortoise: I'm fucking DEAD

slice of ham: necrophilia

french toast: guys leaving me out is homophobic

slice of ham: we are literally all gay

slice of ham: right Herc???

john tortoise: let it go alex

french toast: as if being gay prevents you from the ability to be homophobic

john tortoise: tru

zero to hero: tell you what alex

zero to hero: right before I get on the plane and leave forever, I will tell you my sexuality

french toast: “forever” you jackass like you aren't going to visit

john tortoise: better fucking visit

slice of ham: I'M SO EXCITED

slice of ham: I mean not for you to leave

slice of ham: just to finally learn the truth

john tortoise: smooth alexander

french toast: speaking of the love of my life, my soulmate, my sweet muscular boyfriend moving away forever

zero to hero: and you wonder why people always think we’re an item

french toast: we should have game night tonight at me and alex’s to celebrate our remaining time with herc

zero to hero: I'm not leaving for almost seven months

french toast: there will be booze

zero to hero: well guys better get in all the time you can with me

john tortoise: I love you guys

slice of ham: gay

slice of ham: also laf we have booze at home???

french toast: I'm picking some up rn god mom you're such a drag

john tortoise: alex is not the mom friend

slice of ham: yeah let's be real Herc is the mom friend

french toast: alex is like the elderly grandpa friend. You gotta make sure he's eating and sleeping or he’'ll probably slip into a coma

slice of ham: should i be offended

zero to hero: how am i the mom friend

john tortoise: responsible

french toast: sews patches on our jeans

slice of ham: that one time I accidentally took acid you babysat me

john tortoise: “accidentally”

john tortoise: also you have a car herc

french toast: shit yeah how did we forget the car

french toast: that's like his number one mom quality

zero to hero: you guys could write hallmark cards

french toast: <3

john tortoise: hey mom speaking of cars

john tortoise: wanna give me a ride to lafilton’s tonight

slice of ham: that was the worst fucking way you could've put our two names together

french toast: really john that was gross

john tortoise: fuck off

zero to hero: yes john I'll drive you to my own going away game night

zero to hero: y'all are the type of friends to make me plan my own bachelor party

french toast: excuse you i would make a great best man

french toast: I already have alex’s party planned: strippers

slice of ham: nice

john tortoise: lol as if Alex will ever get married

zero to hero: shots fired

slice of ham: 1) nobody says ‘shots fired’ anymore herc and 2) john(: why wouldn't i want to get married(:

john tortoise: okay listen alexander

slice of ham: listening

john tortoise: and I say this with love

zero to hero: oh no

french toast: mon dieu

john tortoise: but you a hoe

french toast: shit

slice of ham: and hoes don't get married?

french toast: we know they don’t get cold

slice of ham: people who have a lot of sex don't have feelings??

john tortoise: “love isnt my thing” and I quote

slice of ham: well things change

french toast: john’s clearly just jealous that I'm the best man and not him

slice of ham: right

zero to hero: john yes I will give you a ride & hamilaf what time do you want us over

john tortoise: hamilaf

john tortoise: why did that not occur to me

french toast: 7pm be prepared to spend the night bc we are getting wasted my friend

slice of ham: last time he said that he got wine drunk and by 9pm was asleep in my bed

french toast: WASTED

zero to hero: I'll see you idiots tonight

slice of ham: ;) ;) ;) yeah you will

french toast: it's only cute when I flirt with herc

john tortoise: case in point, a hoe

slice of ham: laurens the second you fall asleep tonight I'm hiding your clothes in the fucking freezer

john tortoise: promise? ;)

french toast: I missed this chat

 

* * *

 

 

“Please god tell me you bought tequila.” Alex looked up momentarily from his FaceTime call as Laf shoved through the door, clinking grocery bags in hand. On the screen, Kit snorted.

 

“I thought you were a vodka guy.” He said and Laf looked over, arching an eyebrow.

 

“ _Alexander, qui est-ce?_ ” Laf asked, dropping his bags gracelessly on the table and shoving onto the couch beside a now disgruntled Alex.

 

“Kit, you remember my roommate, Lafayette.”

 

“ _Bonjour_ Kit.” Laf said with a devilish grin, accent thicker as it always somehow seemed to get around cute boys or girls. “You were the one my friend made out with in the middle of the club, _non_?”

 

“I _was_ a vodka guy,” Alex said in response to Kit, completely ignoring Laf and the bemused look on both the two’s faces. “But I recently discovered I prefer tequila. It goes down smooth as fuck while vodka feels like someone is dragging a cat down your throat whose claws are scratching the whole way.”

 

“You should write poetry.” Kit said with a little smirk and Laf laughed.

 

“Oh, he does. You should have seen him two years ago, it was particularly awful stuff.” The frenchman said as he got up, losing interest, and started emptying the bags, his back to Alex. He held up a bottle of golden liquid without turning around and the man on the couch fist pumped the air.

 

“Tequila! Fuck yeah. And,” He returned his eyes to Kit. “I'll have you know my poetry was only mediocre, not awful. And has since improved.”

 

“I'll have to hear it sometime.” Kit said, a teasing lilt to his voice that made Laf pay slightly more attention to the conversation, ears metaphorically perking. “What's the occasion tonight? Just felt like getting drunk?”

 

“Gang’s all back together.” Alex said, sitting up to glance at the wall clock. “So Laf decided the perfect way to celebrate is getting shitfaced.”

 

“Oh that's right,” Kit sounded genuinely pleased. “You and John made up. My advice: try not to have too much of that smooth tequila and kiss him again.”

 

“Fuck off.” Alex said, laughing, and glanced at Laf, who was looking at him incredulously. “I'll talk to ya later Livingston. Good luck with that promotion.”

 

“Good luck with getting drunk off your ass.”

 

He hung up and walked over to Laf, examining the various bottles the man had grabbed.

 

“Jesus Laf, think you grabbed enough liquor?” His friend rolled his eyes, smirking.

 

“I haven't had a drink since New Year’s, Alexander. I'm over compensating. The boys are on their way if you wanted to change.”

 

Alex glanced at himself in the mirror, clad only in sweatpants with his short hair, growing a little faster than he would like, sticking out in various directions, and shrugged.

 

“They’ve seen me worse. Besides,” He patted his stomach. “I stress lost a lot of weight and look pretty damn good.”

 

“Skinny is not the equivalent of healthy.” Laf teased and, as if to prove some cruel point, stood beside Alex to look in the mirror and lifted his shirt up, patting his clearly defined muscles. “Bet you miss licking these washboard abs.”

 

“Save the sexual harassment for Herc.” Alex shoved him and self consciously crossed his arms over his chest. Laf unscrewed the cap off the tequila and raised it to his face, giving it a little sniff.

 

“I'm definitely a wine gay.” He passed it to Alex, who took a swig without flinching, and rummaged through the bags. “Okay so for chaser I bought Sprite and orange juice.”

 

“For tequila?” Alex made a face and Laf smacked his arm lightly, taking the bottle away and putting it back with the others.

 

“Yeah asshole, ever had a tequila sunrise? That's orange juice. Both chasers work for vodka and tequila, you're welcome for looking out for you.” Laf teased then looked at Alex slowly. “So, when I was not paying attention you started seeing the stranger from the club?”

 

Alex shrugged, tensing a little defensively, and walked into the kitchen in search of some plastic cups. All he could find clean were wine glasses. _Elegant._

 

“Nah, Kit’s just a friend. It's just kinda...nice to talk to someone about everything who isn't right in the middle of it all, ya know?” Laf nodded, chuckling as Alex returned with four wine glasses, and smiled as if he wasn't taking Alex’s words personally.

 

“I understand. Well you know-” Laf cut himself off to take a little breath, not looking at Alex. “You can tell me anything too. You know that, right? I love John but…” He placed his hand on Alex’s bare shoulder and the shorter man looked up at him, a little surprised and a little touched by the sincerity in his eyes. “It is you who's back I'll always have.”

 

“I know Laf.” Alex smiled cheekily, trying to diffuse the moment slightly, feeling the little bit of the tequila he’d already had making his thoughts blurry around the edges. “Don’t be jealous of Kit, I'm not abandoning you or anything. He's just a friend.” Alex said, appropriately guessing Laf’s exact fear, and there was a loud set of rhythmless knocks on the door.

 

“Daddy’s home!” Herc’s voice called, followed by the muffled sound of John’s laugh, Alex’s heart automatically clenching.

 

“Stop looking so lovesick.” Laf warned softly and opened the door, his smile huge and charming. “My favorite idiots! All in the same room!”

 

He pulled Herc into a tight hug that involved him leaping off the ground and wrapping his legs around him, probably intentionally leaving John to face Alex alone, and Alex smiled weakly.

 

“Hey there.”

 

After they had made up a few nights ago, it had been nice if not a little awkward.

 

Okay, a lot awkward.

 

“I can't believe we abandoned a free pizza.” John had said after they silently descended the staircase, both boys biting back giddy little grins at having the other back in their presence.

 

“Laf and I will eat it for breakfast.” Alex reassured him with a dismissive little wave. “He prefers it cold. Like some animal.”

 

“Well at least he doesn’t coat it with ungodly amounts of tajin.” John teased and Alex had smiled up at him, savoring the familiarity of the moment. Of his soft smile, the way the skin wrinkled around his cheeks.

 

“Everything about me is ungodly.” Alex had joked in return, and so it had went.

 

They’d stood in line at the Coffee Bean down the street, able to maintain a steady banter regarding various names of menu items and tea brands, laughing lightly. It wasn't until they sat down at a table near the window, across from one another and drinks in hand, that they simultaneously realized they had nothing to talk about. All of the superficial things had been said, and the longer Alex struggled to think of a conversation piece, the longer the silence went on, growing thicker with discomfort.

 

_We’ve been best friends for three years. What did we talk about before? Him being in love with me?_

 

“So,” Alex said after a long moment, John looking grateful for something to break the tension. “You went home for winter break.” It was supposed to sound like a question but fell flat.

 

“Yeah.” John had nodded, smiling awkwardly. “Yeah I did.”

 

“How's Martha?” He asked after another moment with some difficulty, and John’s smile grew a little more genuine.

 

“Good. Real good. That little gremlin managed to get a cat for Christmas.” He said fondly and Alex had grinned. Of the Laurens siblings he’d really only had time to get to know Martha, and found her quite the little charmer. _Like her brother._

 

“Oh, like you didn't get a turtle.” He’d said and John had ducked his head laughing, a familiar motion Alex had forgotten about, one that made his coffee a little harder to swallow.

 

“That turtle was probably a last ditch effort to get me to stop smoking inside the house. I just ended up going on the roof. That, and the good ole fabric sheet inside a used up toilet paper roll trick.”

 

“Okay wait,” Alex laughed, utterly bemused. “I don't know which thread to follow. The fact that you were getting high in _middle school_ or this alleged toilet paper trick.”

 

“You take the little brown roll after the toilet paper is gone, okay?” John explained, making overly expressive hand gestures and Alex had nodded, doing his best to look incredibly interested when in reality, he was a little lost in how endearingly serious John was. “And then you stuff those scented dryer sheets inside. And after you take a hit, you breathe out into the tube and instead of weed, you get that sweet laundry smell.”

 

“You're a fucking idiot.” Alex had burst out laughing and John just grinned at him.

 

“What?! It works and I had to get innovative. My dad was up my ass enough as is.”

 

“Ah, and how is Henry?” Alex asked, finishing his coffee, a little jittery. “Still a dick?”

 

“Actually,” Some of the light had faded from John’s eyes, making Alex think he misspoke, but his smile remained. “We had a nice-ish moment. I sorta came out to him? Not like he didn’t already know but….I told him about Nate. Nathanael.” He corrected, perhaps recognizing the familiarity the nickname held, and Alex felt his smile tighten.

 

“And how did he react?” He’d asked softly, keeping his tone light. John had just shrugged.

 

“He was actually pretty okay with it. I don't think he would show up to my wedding or anything just yet but, he invited Nathanael over.” John let out a bitter little laugh and Alex tilted his head, trying not to think selfishly.

 

“You miss him.” He said softly, again not a question, and John just nodded with a little smile.

 

“I do.”

 

The rest of the night had been a little forced but pretty pleasant, and now they were here. Facing each other in the doorway, Alex afraid his heart was on his sleeve.

 

“Any particular reason you're half naked?” John joked with a smirk, setting down the tray of bubble tea the two clearly had compromised being on time to get. “Or do you have some boy tied up in your room right now?”

 

“You really can't let the hoe thing slide.” Alex laughed in return, noticing the way John’s eyes, for the briefest of moments, trailed over him. He felt more than a little triumphant.

 

“Alexander Hamilhoe.” Laf chimed in, pouring generous shots of vodka into the wine glasses. “And I don't see why you brought us thai tea when we’re spending all night drinking anyway. The smart gift would have been some snacks.”

 

“We figured you’d be a good host and provide the grub.” Herc said, lifting the wine glass to his lips, and Laf caught his wrist roughly.

 

“We take the first shot together!! Where are your manners?”

 

“Here he goes.” Alex nudged John as Laf continued over him.

 

“You come into _my house_ -”

 

“Our house. Apartment, actually.”

 

“-And think you can drink my _own_ Smirnoff before me?”

 

“Isn't this _my_ going away party?” Herc grinned at Laf fondly, resting his arm on the slightly smaller man’s shoulder.

 

“Are we going to talk about drinking,” John chimed in. “Or actually do it?”

 

“Cheers!” Alex said and raised his glass, the four of them repeating the motion, before tilting his head back and chugging the burning drink.

 

The wine glasses didn't double as very effective shot glasses, and all four boys had to wipe away excess vodka spilling down their chins. Alex watched a stray drop trickle down John’s neck and disappear under his shirt collar, his thoughts less than pure, vaguely jealous of the liquid.

 

Laf caught his eye, smirking as if reading his mind, and handed him the tequila bottle.

 

“Bottoms up boys. I'm not breaking out Cards Against Humanity until we’re all at least buzzed.”

 

“That game is the devil.” John said darkly, shuddering from both the second shot of vodka and the various memories resurfacing of that particular card game. “Pass the sprite. Vodka is a bitch.”

 

“Can't relate.” Alex smirked and, showing off just a tad, raised the tequila bottle to his lips and chugged, goaded onward by the impressed little laugh Herc let out.

 

“That's my man Hamilton.” Herc clapped him in the back so hard he almost choked and he pulled the bottle back, forcing himself not to gag or make any face that would neutralize the effect of him tackling a third of the bottle. “Can't maintain a decent sleep schedule for shit but he can sure drink.”

 

“Priorities.” Alex choked out and John slung an arm around his shoulders knowingly, Alex swaying slightly.

 

“Now when did you get into tequila?” John looked down at him, a glimmer in his eye, and Alex felt his mouth go a little dry.

 

“Same time you got into Drag Race.” He teased and passed John the bottle. “Here, it's classier than a wine glass.”

 

“On what planet?” Laf asked distantly, him and Herc somehow already sprawled out on the couch, making the idiotic decision to spike their thai teas with vodka, but Alex didn't reply.

 

He didn't look away from John as the boy smirked at him, shrugged, and raised the tequila bottle to his lips in one fluid motion. He only managed to take a couple gulps, to Alex’s great satisfaction, before pulling back and smacking his lips.

 

“Yeah, vodka’s still better.” He said and looked down at Alex again, eyes a little glassy, and blinked. “Seriously though, why are you shirtless?”

 

Laf cackled as Alex shoved John off, regretting it immediately when he found his balance extremely off kilter, and compensated by practically collapsing onto the sofa, half in Laf’s lap.

 

“John, don't be rude.” Laf said, sitting up slightly. “Let's show Alex some support guys.” And, to his roommate’s embarrassment, Laf tugged his shirt up and over his head. _He takes any excuse he can get to show off._

 

“Oh god,” Herc looked between them with mock horror. “You two planned an orgy didn't you?” John laughed and nudged him, his smirk matching Laf’s.

 

“That’s what happens when the whole squad is queer.” Alex added but found his attention was no longer on his words at all when John tugged off his shirt, revealing his beautiful, freckled, tattooed body. _Speaking of washboard abs I would like to lick._

 

He took another drink to distract himself and drunkenly analyze his thoughts. _Okay what the hell is wrong with me tonight? Was I this attracted to John back when he was actually into me?_

 

_Well, you did try and pick him up the first time you two actually talked._

 

“God, I needed this.” John, to Alex's great pleasure and great horror, squished onto the couch beside him and wrapped a bare arm around him. “I feel like I haven't seen you guys in a hot minute.”

 

“Isn't the expression cool second?” Laf asked and Herc snorted.

 

“I think it's both. And John maybe that's because you were too busy climbing your boyfriend like a tree.” Alex tensed, expecting John to react defensively, but the boy surprised him by laughing.

 

“I think it was my lack of willingness to climb him that was why we broke up.” He joked, a little bitterly, and Laf sat up to look at him, elbows now digging into Alex painfully.

 

“Do you miss him?” He asked bluntly and John bit his lip and nodded.

 

“Yeah….yeah I do. It felt just really fucking sudden, you know? But whatever, it's not like he was my soulmate.”

 

“It's because you aren't angry yet.” Herc said with drunk wisdom and they all looked at him, varying expressions of confusion.

 

“What?” Alex and John blurted in unison, sharing a private little look that the other two politely pretended not to notice.

 

“You've been sad, but you haven't been mad yet.” Herc went on. “I mean, it's kinda shitty that he dumped you on the assumption you'd rather bang your best friend.” _Thanks Herc, remind him of that why don't you._

 

“I guess.” John tilted his head, as if anger has never occurred to him. “That's weird. Usually I get pissed as my primary response. Maybe I was too busy being angsty.”

 

“My usual.” Laf sighed and they ignored him.

 

“Well, get angry now then.” Alex said softly, unsure where he stood in this conversation, but deciding ultimately that not contributing at all would be worse than saying something stupid.

 

“I don't know.” John scratched the back of his head, looking uncomfortable. “I still got that _500 Days of Summer_ effect going on. Looking back he seems so perfect and I just miss him.” The words were like needles directly digging into Alex’s skin and Laf made a sound of disbelief.

 

“John, c’mon. He's not Zoey fucking Deschanel. Name something about him you didn't like.”

 

“Uh,” John squirmed under all their expectant gazes but suddenly brightened. “Okay got one! Nate didn't like smoking. Hates the smell.”

 

“Stoner John is like, who you are.” Alex said and John nodded solemnly.

 

“Right?”

 

“John, I don't smoke. Does that mean we have no chance together?” Laf whined and Alex “accidentally” delivered him a sharp kick to the shins.

 

“And you know what else?” John sat up, eyes narrowing slightly. “He like, constantly monopolized my time. We were dating so I guess it was cute but shit, if I didn't text back within the hour you'd think I forgot his fucking birthday.”

 

“Here we go.” Herc mumbled, smirking, taking another gulp of his shitty thai tea mixed drink at the same time Alex set down the tequila, giving John his full attention.

 

“He was so _white_ too. Like I couldn't even take him anywhere good to eat. He'd just order the blandest thing on the menu.” Laf went into hysterical laughter which was hard not to join in on, all of them soon giggling and wheezing to some degree.

 

“And,” John was still grinning but his eyes grew serious. “It was bullshit that he asked me not to talk to you Alex. I mean, I could've said no. Of course. But he shouldn't have asked.”

 

It grew silent as John looked at Alex, obviously speaking to him and him alone, and Alex suddenly decided he was a little bit too drunk to be expected to know what to do with the emotion in John's eyes.

 

“Yeah,” Herc said, snapping the two out of their strangely intense eye contact. “What a douche.”

 

“Herc,” Laf finally sat up off of Alex. “I know this is your going away party. But I vote we change the occasion to John’s breakup bash.”

 

“I second.” Herc raised his glass and John snorted.

 

“I third.” He agreed, all of them laughing, and Alex felt a familiar warmth hold him.

 

 _Maybe you don't have him in the way you want, but at least you have him back._ Alex thought as the foursome stumbled to the dining room table, Laf messily shuffling the cards and handing them out in unequal proportions. (“It's Devil’s cards against humanity.” He explained, Hercules holding eleven cards while Alex had two. “You work with whatever I give you.”) _At least he's here._

 

“Here.” John stage whispered, sliding Alex two of his own cards with an expression of martyrdom, both boys now having four cards each. “Allyship.”

 

“My hero.” Alex teased, giving him a familiar smirk.

 

_At least he's here._

 

* * *

 

 

“I would like to announce, before I let you go for the day and before anyone asks, that I will _not_ be curving the grade of the midterm.” Washington waited for the groans of protest and dismay to die down with an unchanging expression before speaking again. “I am _extremely_ disappointed by the number of you that failed, considering I have available office hours almost every week night. It's laziness. None of you studied.”

 

“But George. Sir.” A student up front corrected himself quickly, voice almost a whine. “The test was just too hard. _Everybody_ failed.” Various students made sounds of assent. Laf shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

 

“Not everybody.” Washington replied curtly, barely glancing up at Laf, but it was enough.

Several students turned to face the boy seated in the very back, faces an even mix of respect, disbelief, and betrayal. _I didn't force your asses not to study._ Laf thought bitterly. “It would be unfair to reward the slack of some when there are students among us who actually did the work.”

 

Now the eyes on Laf narrowed, not even attempting to be subtle in their jealously, and a low mumble started to spread. _Dear God George, please shut up._

 

“Yeah,” A girl, a couple seats down, stage whispered to the boy next to her. “I bet if I was fucking the professor, I’d be the only one with an A too.”

 

“Probably some extra credit.” The boy shot back, both snickering.

 

Lafayette felt his face flush red hot with humiliation and a biting fury. It would be one thing if he and George ever _had_ consummated Laf’s (possibly) unrequited love for him, or had Lafayette not legitimately earned his grade, which he had.

 

Lafayette prepared a sharp retort, feeling that anger he typically recognised as something associated with the likes of Alex, not an emotion he himself was accustomed too. He was eloquent, he was perhaps a bit too passionate, but not quick to rage. However George, thankfully not hearing, continued anyway.

 

“However, I will be administering a makeup exam this Saturday morning, 7am, for any who wish to attempt again and _actually_ study.”

 

Lafayette watched a couple of his classmates drop their heads to their desks, almost the whole room expressing similar aggravation. He swallowed heavily, not finding George’s punishment particularly strict as he remained unaffected, but Laf didn't want to increase his peers apparent dislike of him, nor feed the rumor mill. _I would let them talk were the price my pride, not a man’s career._

 

“Have a good afternoon.” George dismissed them and they all practically ran out.

 

The professor’s eyes found his, students shoving past each other for the door, and Laf got the very clear impression that George wanted him to stay and talk. A group of boys walked by Laf and their conversation grew silent, biting their lips to stifle laughter. _Ah, I see._ Setting his jaw resolutely, Lafayette ignored the imploring gaze of the professor and turned on his heels to leave with the sea of other students, given a wide berth. _It's not like I'm a fucking leper._

 

He clung tightly to the strap of his bag around his shoulder, refusing to look back despite the guilt pounding through him. _I don't have time for chit chat anyway. I'm meeting Thomas and James. Yay._

 

Lafayette was excited to see the friends he had been somewhat neglecting, but almost groaned aloud when he remembered that Thomas was going through a breakup. _Love him to death but he's insufferable_ **_in_ ** _a relationship let alone fresh out of one._

 

He quickly caught the student shuttle that would carry him towards the frat houses, Greek row, Thomas’ house amongst them despite him not actually being in a frat anymore. Laf realized, forehead pressed against the shaking window, he still didn't know why Thomas had been expelled from his former fraternity in the first place. It had to do with either cocaine or Alexander, if Laf’s memory and attention to gossip could be counted on. He made a note to ask.

 

french toast: hey who's turn was it to bring food

jemmy: yours laf

 

 _Fuck_. Lafayette bit the inside of his cheek and wondered if he could charm the shuttle driver into letting him off at Subway. He could probably get away with a couple footlongs, considering he knew their orders pretty well. No gluten for Jemmy and no red meat, and he loved tuna, and just load whatever sandwich he wanted with veggies for Thomas.

 

jemmy: I ordered pizza don't worry about it

french toast: I owe you my life

jemmy: no, you owe me babysitting thomas

french toast: oh god

french toast: he's moping isn't he

jemmy: mope central

 

Lafayette rolled his eyes as the shuttle rolled to a stop by the row of large white houses with immaculate lawns. He walked briskly towards the only one with honest to god hedge animals. _I can't believe Alex lived here the summer of freshman year._ Lafayette sometimes felt like it had been ten rather than two years ago he and Alex were new to New York and America, as the memories seemed so distant. Like they had happened in a dream, or to someone else. _I need Alex to refresh my memory on how that summer went. Meanwhile I was in Cancun._

 

Laf didn't bother knocking, swinging the door open and welcoming himself into the living room, tossing his bag onto the couch.

 

“Is that the pizza?” He heard a nasally voice call and Laf rounded the corner, unprepared for the sight that greeted him.

 

Thomas Jefferson, who ironed his socks, was sitting at the dining room table in sweatpants and an old shirt. His hair was tied back similar to how Laf always wore his, he noticed with a bitter twinge, but the real kicker was the fact he was holding a half empty margarita glass as well as wearing dark round sunglasses, despite them being indoors.

 

“Jesus you've let yourself go.” He observed dryly, sitting down close beside the boy and swinging his legs into his lap. Thomas snorted.

 

“Let myself go? I'm living the fucking dream.” His smile was forced and Laf, exchanging a sympathetic look at James for having clearly endured this all day, nodded and allowed Thomas to go on. “I'm back on the market! I'm free!” _This is just sad._

 

“Now we can have that threesome.” Laf joked but Thomas ignored him, still gesturing wildly as he spoke, patting Laf’s knees for emphasize.

 

“No, really Laf. This is the best thing that could've happened to me. You missed it, I was just explaining to James; I was getting too comfortable. Too _domestic._ My charm was getting rusty. And now I'm back to playing the field. Back to men _and_ women. I'm-”

 

“The pizza!” Lafayette and James exclaimed in almost perfect unison as the doorbell rang, but James escaped first and rushed out of the room. Thomas, caught off guard, simply sighed and looked at Laf.

 

“I swear, I'm not heartbroken or anything Laf. Dumping Angelica was….the best choice for me.”

 

“I forgot what a douche you are when single.” Laf teased and ruffled his hair before smiling gently. “I am glad you are not suffering, Thomas.”

 

His sudden sincerity seemed to take the boy aback, jaw hanging slightly ajar, and James returned with two large boxes in his arms.

 

“I forgot tipping was a thing.” He complained mildly, dropping the boxes on the glass table in front of them and squeezing beside Laf on the couch. “That was my last ten dollars.” Thomas scoffed.

 

“Don't tip delivery boys.” He grabbed a slice of pizza littered with pineapple, Laf silently remembering to throw in Alex’s face that Thomas was the only other person they knew who liked such a topping, and managed to cram almost the entire slice in his mouth in one bite. “They can get a real job if they want pocket change.”

 

“Spoiled little rich boy.” Laf said with no real animosity, as he himself was a spoiled little rich boy. “Delivering food is a real job.”

 

“Yeah,” Thomas said around a mouth full of melted cheese. “A job I could do myself.”

 

“Yeah,” James delicately bit into his slice. “But you didn't.”

 

“Be nice to fuckboi Thomas.” Laf scolded, snickering as he picked the pineapple off of his slice. “He's going through some shit.”

 

“I am _not_.” Thomas huffed and the other two rolled their eyes.

 

Sure, Laf was deeply amused by Thomas’ ability to deflect from his feelings. Hell, he even admired it a little, found it endearing. But Laf saw right through the boy. He loved Angelica more than Laf had ever seen his friend love anyone or anything. Thomas could pretend to be the suave heartbreaker all he wanted, but he was a romantic. The type to doodle hearts in the margins of his notebook, A + T, and file through wedding magazines dreamily.

 

It almost made him want to hate Angelica a little. _Let him without sin cast the first stone._ He thought of Adrienne and shuddered a little. No, Laf wasn't one to judge. He couldn't afford to be.

 

“Just take her back Thomas.” James grumbled and Laf raised his eyebrows in surprise. To his knowledge, James had been harboring a crush on their pretentious friend for quite some time. It was weird that he wouldn't jump on the opportunity to have his shot with Thomas. _Unless…_ “Everybody should get one free do over.”

 

“No.” The humor had vanished from Thomas’ face, the sunglasses blocking his eyes making him seem even more cold and distant than his tone already implied. “This might have been the first time she _did_ something to hurt me but….she was never fully in it.” _Not like I was._ The unspoken ending of his sentence hung heavily in the air and Laf cleared his throat, reaching for another slice.

 

“Well, I think you're right.” He flashed Thomas a wicked little smirk. “Now's the opportunity for rebound sex. The first one is always the best so you have to choose with-wait.” He sat straight up, immediately picking up on the way both boys were refusing to meet his gaze, suddenly interested in the floor and their pizza. “You….you two hooked up?”

 

“Wh-what?” James laughed, a little too nervously, and Laf’s jaw dropped with his usual air of dramatics.

 

“I cannot _believe_ this. You booty call James-”

 

“Okay,” Thomas interrupted, looking flustered, and he finally removed the sunglasses. “It was not a _booty call_ we just-”

 

“And _I_ wasn't even invited!” Laf crossed his arms, looking between them with mock betrayal, biting his lip to refrain from cackling wildly at their embarrassment. James’ gaze was locked on his shoes.

 

“Don't make this a thing Lafayette.” James mumbled and Thomas made an indecipherable sound of agreement.

 

“Fine. Fine.” Laf said, waiting until they both visibly unclenched in relief before smirking. “So, how was it?”

 

“Laf!” Thomas hissed but the hope just leaned back in the couch, kicking his feet up.

 

“I mean, I've had sex with you.” He pointed at Thomas. “And you've had sex with Alex.” He pointed at James, who looked mortified at the reminder. “And _I've_ had sex with Alex. So to complete the circle, Thomas, you-”

 

“For the love of god.” Lafayette was extremely proud of himself for managing to make Thomas look so uncomfortable. “I am not having sex with Alex. This isn't the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants.”

 

“I feel like you've never actually seen or read that.” Laf said casually and James rolled his eyes.

 

“Fine Laf. We had sex. It was whatever. The point is-”

 

“ _Whatever_?” Thomas looked offended. “I was great.”

 

“You were okay.”

 

“Better than Alex?” Laf taunted, wanting to add fuel to this fire, and both boys glared at him.

 

“Ya know,” Thomas finally spoke up after a long moment, clearly deciding to let the comment slide. “Neither of you have asked about debate club. Which is going _marvelously_ by the way.”

 

“I should have realized tonight would be the Thomas Jefferson show.” Laf teased but

gave him an encouraging smile. “Go on then, tell us about it. Working with your ex and all.” James threw Laf a sharp glare and Thomas simply ignored the last comment.

 

“A whole lot of people showed up to the last meeting. We spent the entire time going over posture, body language, and what not.” Thomas sat up straight as he spoke, growing animated with obvious pride. “Theodosia made us these really gorgeous fliers and I think that's helping the turn out a lot. People seem...genuinely excited to be there. I forgot what that looked like, it was so bland under Friedrich. But Alexander's passion especially is so goddamn contagious.” It was maybe the closest thing Laf had heard to Thomas giving Alex a compliment. “And Angie-”

 

He stopped short immediately, so painfully fast that the silence was thicker than butter, and Laf rushed to break it.

 

“Theodosia,” He said, deciding she was a safe enough conversation piece. “She's fitting into the club well, _non_? Alex raves about her.”

 

“I think he has a vague crush on her.” Thomas said with a snort, the dangerous look in his eyes having faded almost completely. “But she's got a fiancé so there's one girl he can't sleep with.” He said bitterly and Laf looked at James, raising his eyebrows as if to say _okay your turn now._

 

“Didn't you say you guys were entering into some kind of debate competition?” James asked and Thomas practically lit up.

 

“Yes! Alexander and I found some local debate club, mostly older white men so we aren't taking it too seriously, but this weekend they agreed to spar with our teams and it'll be the _perfect_ way to test out all our newbies.”

 

“Maybe I should come support.” Laf said thoughtfully. “I bet Alex would get a kick out of it. Do you guys have t-shirts? You should get t-shirts.”

 

“I wouldn't be caught _dead_ in a shirt that says Master Debators on it.” James grumbled and the other two laughed at him.

 

“Aw cmon Jemmy,” Thomas said, voice like honey. “I wouldn't make you wear a shirt….we got sweaters.” James groaned and Laf grinned, looking between them.

 

“You know what, I will take one Thomas.” Laf said enthusiastically. “They sound dorky as hell but it'll make Alex happy.” And Laf knew Thomas would be secretly pleased as well that Laf was showing such support.

 

“I have some upstairs! You're a medium, right?” And at Laf's confirmation Thomas dashed up the stairs, his smile contagious.

 

“Thanks for coming over.” James said in a hushed voice once he was certain Thomas was out of hearing range. “He's one needy bastard when he's heartbroken. You should see how much time he's been putting into planning debate strategy. He has fucking _binders_ full of notes like Alex.”

 

“At least you finally got to sleep with him.” Laf teased but James’ serious expression remained.

 

“I….shouldn't have. It felt wrong. Like taking advantage of someone drunk.” Laf rolled his eyes.

 

“Christ James, he's going through a breakup, it's not like somebody died. He's an adult. He'll get through it.” Maybe Laf’s views when it came to love were a little harsh of late, but really. Thomas was being a tad dramatic.

 

“Well he needs friends right now, regardless.” James said sternly and Laf sighed, understanding his meaning.

 

“You want me to come by tomorrow, don't you?” James smiled triumphantly.

 

“Yes. Just….make it seem like your idea.”

 

“We need to get you a boyfriend James.” Laf grumbled, sighing in defeat, and the other boy shrugged.

 

“When you get one, then we’ll talk.” James replied and Laf laughed, both of them quickly adopting wide, if not slightly pitying, smiles as Thomas came jumping back down the stairs.

 

* * *

 

 

slice of ham: you're not mad at me, are you?

tjeffs: why would I be mad at you alex

slice of ham: you seem mad at me

tjeffs: just because I don't coddle and fawn over you like everybody else doesn't mean I'm mad at you

slice of ham: see but when you say things like that

slice of ham: it makes me think you're mad

tjeffs: you're an insufferable little shit, yes, but I'm not mad

slice of ham: I feel bad

tjeffs: stop making it about you

slice of ham: christ, I'm trying to apologize

tjeffs: I don't want an apology

tjeffs: really alex, you didn't do anything

tjeffs: it's fine

slice of ham: I'm sorry that it happened

slice of ham: I know we aren't like…..friends

slice of ham: but for what it's worth, I'm sorry

tjeffs: I would lie and say that means a lot, but it doesn't

tjeffs: but thank you

slice of ham: you really know how to make a guy feel better

tjeffs: again, not about you

slice of ham: listen, it could've been anybody

slice of ham: I was just there

tjeffs: no

tjeffs: that's not true

tjeffs: you don't know all the facts alex

slice of ham: try me

tjeffs: she's in love with you

tjeffs: it wasn't just some drunk kiss that “happened” to be with you

tjeffs: I've just been a substitute for you all along

tjeffs: and I was too stupid to realize it

slice of ham: that's not true

tjeffs: she told me herself

slice of ham: she told you that you're some substitute for me, or you're inferring that?

slice of ham: I know angelica thomas

slice of ham: her and I are really similar

tjeffs: gee that makes me feel better

slice of ham: I just mean i know her very well

slice of ham: and she isnt in love with me

tjeffs: Alex

slice of ham: listen

slice of ham: this is gonna sound really self absorbed so bear with me

tjeffs: you're talking to me here

tjeffs: I don't exactly have room to call anyone out for arrogance

tjeffs: still there?

slice of ham: I'm typing

tjeffs: oh god, this is gonna be a twenty page text isn't it

slice of ham: listen Thomas a lot of people think that they're in love with me. I'm really compelling and I talk a lot and with a lot of passion and it's easy to get swept up in it. But these people, angelica, they love the idea of me. They want to imagine that drive and focus I have is on them. When they get to know me, they don't love me. And i swear, that's not me fishing for compliments or anything. Angelica would never really date me. Like I said, I know her really well. She's like me. She wouldn't be satisfied dating me. She's afraid of love and commitment blah blah blah so she projects that onto the notion of dating me, someone so similar to her that it's destined for destruction. Her and I, if i was ever interested which i am NOT, would literally never ever work out. She's not stupid, she knows that. But you and her? There's something real there. And that scares her. I know her, and she loves you. She really loves you, so she did something to fuck it up. And yes, it was coincidental that i was there. Me, the perfect hurricane for her to use to fuck up something good she had going for her. It's the kinda shit I would do. She doesn't love me, I'm just an outlet. She loves you, and that scares her. Ya know?

slice of ham: still there?

tjeffs: reading

tjeffs: you should be a psych major

slice of ham: lol

tjeffs: I don't know alex

tjeffs: I mean, I get your point. But even if all that is true, is it my responsibility to try and make her see she loves me? Bc fuck that

slice of ham: no not at all

slice of ham: I love her but that doesn't mean her taking out her commitment issues/obsession with ambition over love out on you is okay

tjeffs: I guess

tjeffs: but you think she loves me?

slice of ham: I know she does

tjeffs: you said “lots of ppl think theyre in love with me”

tjeffs: did you mean john

slice of ham: I'm helping you with your relationship issues not the other way around

tjeffs: well you actually came here for validation that you weren't to blame but sure

tjeffs: it might feel nice to talk about it with someone outside your weird polyamorous friend group

tjeffs: and it'll distract me from my own breakup blues

slice of ham: god you had to pull the “recently dumped” card you nosy bastard

tjeffs: I dumped her

slice of ham: right

slice of ham: it's just that john is finally back in my life which is so great but except now the tables have turned and I'm fucking obsessed with him and idk if i should call it love bc I've never actually experienced that but i just wanna be with him. Except losing him as my friend was so fucking awful that i don't want to risk losing him again by telling him how i feel and making it weird.

slice of ham: like I'm kindof hoping i can just wait out this love bullshit until it goes away and be his friend forever bc I mean even if we dated how long would it last?? At best, a year? I'm shit at relationships so that's a stretch. And then what? Then i lose him

tjeffs: god you are like angelica

slice of ham: hey I'm the protagonist here

slice of ham: shes like me

tjeffs: look dude, I get what you mean about friendship and all that

slice of ham: don't call me dude

tjeffs: but life is short. Carpe diem man. We’re young. Maybe he's not the love of your life and yeah, you're probably not fucking soulmates or anything, but why not take the leap? Why is time an indicator of how meaningful something is? Even if you dated a month, maybe that month would be the best fucking month of your life. Don't deny yourself that chance

slice of ham: thats…..thats really fucking good advice

slice of ham: I didn't expect anything insightful from you

slice of ham: some latin catchphrase, sure. But insightful advice??

tjeffs: heartbreak gets me angsty and philosophical

tjeffs: glad I could inspire you

tjeffs: you aren't the only one who has a way with words

slice of ham: evidently not

slice of ham: it goes both ways you know

slice of ham: you could give her another chance

tjeffs: nothing would be different

tjeffs: she holds back so much, it's exhausting

tjeffs: I act so goddamn heartless but i have needs too

tjeffs: people forget that the guy has needs

slice of ham: heterosexual relationships amiright

slice of ham: no but I understand what you mean

slice of ham: in that case, I'm glad ur taking care of urself

tjeffs: yeah

tjeffs: oh my god, it's two am

slice of ham: I never sleep, didn't notice

tjeffs: no i mean jesus I can never live this down

tjeffs: I had an insightful discussion about love and relationships with alexander hamilton at two in the fucking morning

slice of ham: this is ruining our respective reputations are heartless bastards

tjeffs: agreed. I'm gonna go without saying goodnight to save some semblance of pride

slice of ham: you realize that's a form of saying goodnight right

slice of ham: nighty night tommy boy

slice of ham: I'll see you in debate tomorrow

slice of ham: sweet dreams

slice of ham: don't let the bed bugs bite

slice of ham: and if they do, bite them back

tjeffs: kinky

slice of ham: I knew you were still awake

tjeffs: fine you win I'll say it: goodnight

slice of ham: I'm screenshotting

tjeffs: I hate you

slice of ham: night thomas

 

* * *

 

 

tjeffs: thank you, alex

 

* * *

 

 

 _What is the point of having my own goddamn apartment in the greatest city in the world if it is so inconveniently_ **_far_ ** _from me?_

 

Lafayette shuddered half from bitterness and half from how soaked to the bone he was. Rain had decided spontaneously to start pouring down almost the moment Laf had decided to walk to the subway station, exposed under the gray New York sky with no umbrella. He was now waiting at the crosswalk, eyeing the sweet, sweet relief of underground transportation just across the street, if only the light would change already.

 

He was holding his windbreaker like a tarp over his head, creating the effect of a tapping sound that would be rather soothing if he weren't shivering borderline violently. But the chill on his arms was a fair price to pay for preserving his hair. The way it would frizz and tangle when soaked was something he just did not want to deal with tonight.

 

Lafayette’s attention was so staunchly fixated on the little red hand telling him he couldn't yet walk that he didn't immediately notice the sleek black car pull up to the curb beside him in a no park zone. The entire world and sky seemed to be a clouded gray, so it was the piercing glow of the taillights which drew his focus to to the vehicle, passenger’s side window slowly rolling down. A brief little fantasy flashed before his eyes of some Richard Gere type of older white man leaning out the window, offering him unimaginable wealth for one wild night. _I'm already rich but maybe I would do it just for the drama of it all. Maybe he would fall in love with me and lavish me with gifts, begging to just keep a strand of my hair._

 

But the fantasy quickly shifted when the face that leaned out the window belonged to Washington, a hand beckoning Laf closer just as the light across the road displayed the little white figure allowing Laf to cross. He ignored it without a second glance and approached the car.

 

“Need a ride?” George’s car was radiating blissful, tempting heat, even more enticing than the image of his affair with some wealthy socialite had been. “It's awfully wet out to be walking home.” Laf hesitated for an instant, hand hovering over the door handle.

 

“Are you sure?” He asked, feeling a shadow of a childhood warning. _Don't get into cars with grownups!_ But he was a grownup, so what was there to fear?

 

“Of course, hop in.” Laf didn't need much more persuasion, as he was freezing and very much in love with the man in the driver’s seat.

 

“Sorry to get your seat wet.” The car was as dry and warm and he had anticipated, Laf curling his soaking jacket into his lap to avoid dripping onto the sleek interior more than he already was. George waved him off as he pulled back onto the road.

 

“Better the seat than you. Hell’s Kitchen right?”

 

“Off 48th.” Laf rattled off, feeling out of his depth for some reason. Maybe it was the way George had remembered where he lived. _Maybe it’s that he happened to be there and you don't believe in coincidences._

 

The rain was streaming down the windows, making gazing out of it impossible, so there was no where to look but at George. George, who he was in very close proximity with. In a private, enclosed space. _Why do cars feel so intimate? Jesus, I didn't think this through._

 

“Have you….” George began a sentence and trailed off, eyes on the road, before sighing a little. “Have you been avoiding me?” The question surprised Laf but not enough to prevented him from answering smoothly and immediately.

 

“Yes.” Laf replied honestly, running his fingers through the ends of his ponytail. His hair had somehow still gotten wet. _Dammit._

 

“Because of our dinner?” George asked with unbearable softness, and Laf’s heart clenched.

 

“No George I-oh.” He blinked guiltily. “How is your ex wife? Martha?” He had completely, and selfishly, forgotten why George had left his apartment in the first place. _What if she's dead and you didn't even think to call?_

 

 _Ah,_ he reminded himself sternly. _It's not your place to call._ He was trying very hard to hold on to the brokenness he had felt, left alone in that apartment by George. Tried very hard to hold tight to his logical list of reasons why this _infatuation-_ not love-was destructive. But George glanced over, meeting his gaze for less than a heartbeat, and it slipped away.

 

“She's actually recovering nicely, thank you.” He sounded pleased that Laf had remembered. “She was scheduled to have surgery and I didn't want her bedridden and alone in Virginia, so she had her surgery here and is staying with me.”

 

“That's, uh, very generous of you.” Laf said absently. Were the walls closing in on him? This car seemed to be getting smaller by the minute, the heat suddenly nauseating rather than comforting.

 

“But that isn't why?”

 

“Why what? Oh.” Lafayette’s eyes narrowed, smiling almost teasingly, and he crossed his arms. “I was avoiding you because you have turned the class against me.” George raised his eyebrows, taking advantage of the red light they paused at to face Laf.

 

“Pardon?” The boy threw his hands up dramatically.

 

“You cannot praise me and me alone in a lecture hall filled with students!” He squeaked, the professor looking completely taken aback. “They all already think we are sleeping together, and now they think _that_ is how I earned my grade.” _Would that they were right._

 

It was Laf’s turn to feel surprised when George let out a bellowing laugh.

 

“It is not funny!” Laf said indignantly, causing George to only laugh again, louder, and Laf couldn't contain a small giggle at the sound.

 

“Do they truly think that you earned your grade by being _nice_ to me?” His laughter filled the car and Laf’s heart. “I love my students, truly I do, but not a single child in that class save you has cracked open their textbook. They earned those F’s.”

 

“To be fair,” Laf said, his tone full of good natured teasing as they rounded the block towards his apartment. “You do assign a rather substantial portion of reading.” George arched an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips.

 

“You manage.”

 

“Ah, but you cannot hold others to my superior standard of being.” He said smugly, waiting until after George let out an amused snort to grow somewhat more serious. “But George, you cannot favor me publicly.”

 

“Should I have left you in the rain?” He asked in amusement and Laf rolled his eyes.

 

“ _Tu es désespéré_.” He turned to face George, studying the man as he kept his eyes on the road.

 

“You'll have to teach me French someday Gilbert.”

 

“Someday.” Laf repeated, excited by the promise of future that single word held.

 

“You live with Alexander, right?” The man asked, glancing towards Laf out of the corner of his eyes. “Will he be upset that I'm driving you home?”

 

“Alex?” Laf scoffed, still smiling, and tilted his head. “I don't think he cares what I do.”

 

But Lafayette watched something flicker across the professor’s face, something like hesitation and regret, and a cold feeling began to settle in his stomach.

 

“George?” He asked slowly, hoping he was simply being paranoid. “Is there something about Alex I should know?”

 

“It isn't my place to say.” He said gruffly, pulling the car into park. The rain was so thick and gray that Laf hadn't realized they were here, and he made no move to get out of the car.

 

“Please,” He asked gently. “Don't treat me like a child. I can handle sour information.” _There is no way he has some secret about Alex that I don't already know._

 

George, it would seem, was an easy man to crack.

 

“Alexander visited my office, the other day.” He said, now able to face Laf, his eyes deep enough to drown in. Laf tried to focus on his words, not how close George was or how good he smelled. “He ah, he asked me to stay away from you.” That jolted Laf out of his fantasizing immediately.

 

“He….what?” Laf asked in disbelief. _Why would Alex do that? I don't understand._

 

“He seemed concerned that I might be….leading you on.” Laf felt his face heat up in embarrassment at the professor’s tone-almost piteous.

 

There was no way Alex would humiliate Laf like that, make him out to be some idiotic teenager who can't fight his own battles or keep his crush in check. _No, maybe George misinterpreted. Maybe it was some body double. Alex wouldn’t do something like that….although he does have a flair for the dramatic._

 

“Well, he was clearly out of line.” Laf growled, clenching just hands into fists, and he was stunned was one of the professor’s hands moved gently to cover his own, enveloping his slowly unfurling fist completely.

 

“Don't be cross with him.” George’s tone was as soft as his touch. “He had good intentions.”

 

“He treats me like a child.” Laf said but the bite in his words were gone. “I don't need protecting. Not from the likes of you.”

 

“No,” George agreed and slowly slid his fingers between Laf’s, almost holding his hand but not quite. “You certainly don't.”

 

Laf stared down at their hands, the only sounds in the car were the raindrops on the windshield and their soft breaths. _This is wrong._

 

He had the distinct and overwhelming feeling that, were he to turn his head and look at the older man, they would be kissing. That if he could just manage to lift his eyes from his fingers and meet George’s gaze-

 

“Well,” The warm hand was gone and Lafayette looked up a moment too late, George’s eyes facing forward once again as he adjusted the windshield wipers. “Call me anytime you need a ride Lafayette. Or...or anything else.”

 

Was there some secret meaning in those words, or was it all in Laf’s head?

 

“I will.” He said and gave George a warm look, his heart on his sleeve, before climbing out onto the street, the cold raining snapping him back into reality, a harsh contrast to the warmth of the professor’s hand.

 

Laf had no idea just how soon he would be taking the man up on his offer.

 

* * *

 

 

french toast: should I be jealous

slice of ham: of

french toast: your new fuckbuddy

slice of ham: don't be crude

slice of ham: and I honestly don't know who ur referring to

french toast: trust me Alex that was the censored version

french toast: that guy from the club

slice of ham: kit?????

slice of ham: lol laf we aren't sleeping together, we’ve been over this

french toast: you expect me to believe you are friends with some hot gay man and aren't having sex

slice of ham: I'm friends with you aren't i

french toast: I appreciate the flattery but that kinda proves my point

slice of ham: we share an apartment you would know if I'm fucking anyone

slice of ham: or being fucked

french toast: now who's crude

french toast: we shared a ROOM and there were times I didn't know

slice of ham: are you feeling neglected bc u can just come out and say so and I'll give ur ass more attention

slice of ham: & I haven't been sleeping around anymore

french toast: oh good, I feel better about my own dry season then

slice of ham: well, my going without sex is intentional

slice of ham: if I rEALLY wanted it, I could be having sex

french toast: yeah it's called crossing the hallway and knocking on the door to my room

french toast: give my ass that aforementioned attention

 

Laf almost dropped his phone at the sound of keys jangling and looked around the living room, wondering if he should turn the television on or make to seem like he was actually busy and hadn't, in fact, just been lounging around and texting Alexander. He received the notification that his message sent just as the door closed behind Alex, the boy grinning mischievously at Laf as he shrugged off his coat.

 

“Hey honey I'm home.”

 

“I can see that.” Laf said dryly, rising and moving to examine the contents of the Chinese food bags Alex had plopped onto the little counter by the doorway. “Chow mein?”

 

“I know you.” Alex smiled and a pang of fondness shot through Laf despite the anger he was battling. Anger towards Alexander.

 

Alex checked his phone and laughed as he read Laf’s last message, grinning at his roommate once again.

 

“Really Laf? You need dick so bad that you're trying me again?”

 

“Well,” Laf said, voice slow and precise, trying not to be rubbed the wrong way by Alex’s words. Alex made it hard to be annoyed with him for only one thing at a time. “I did get caught in the rain the other day with George.” He watched Alex’s face carefully and was surprised to see it perfectly neutral, free of guilt. _How often do you lie to me, Alexander, with such a perfect poker face?_

 

“Oh?” Alex took a seat on the love chair, the most recent furniture addition, and dug messily into his noodles with his chopsticks, holding them like a child would. “What, didja make out with him?” He spoke around his food. “Have a whole _The Notebook_ scene?”

 

Laf leaned back against the counter, palms behind him, and examined Alex slowly. _He must really be trying to lighten the atmosphere, that bastard hates the Notebook._

 

“Maybe we did.” He said, trying to keep his tone even. “Wouldn't you be happy for me?” Alex shrugged, making a face.

 

“Sure Laf, in theory. But we both know that didn't happen.”

 

“Really?” Laf pressed, stepping closer and forgetting his chow mein entirely. “You would be happy for me?”

 

“Um,” Alex swallowed his mouthful of noodles. “I guess. Never given it any thought. It might be a little fucked up considering you're his student but hey, two consenting adults. None of my business.”

 

“Oh?” Laf felt his fists clench involuntarily. “Because you seemed to think it was your business when you told him to stay away from me. Like it's the high school prom and he's my shitty boyfriend.”

 

Alex at least had the decency to look embarrassed, letting a couple noodles hang out of his mouth before quickly recovering and swallowing them, shrugging with mock carelessness.

 

“Can't believe a fucking teacher snitched on me.” He grumbled and Laf just about snapped.

 

“What the fuck Alexander?!” Laf stood towering over him, eyes blazing. “Why would you _humiliate_ me like that?”

 

“Laf, I was trying to help.” Alex set his noodles down and looked up at him, stubbornly not displaying a hint of remorse. “You walk around the apartment just mooning over him, and it's bullsht. You don't deserve to feel this way.”

 

“That isn't up to you.” Laf said, feeling a little dizzy with confusion. Alex's words were protective, so who was in the wrong here? _He is, dipshit. He stuck his nose where it doesn't belong._

 

“Well, sorry.” Alex said, not sounding sorry in the least, and Laf could've screaming in frustration.

 

“Bullshit Alexander. You crossed a line. We aren't just going to sweep this under the rug.”

 

“Oh grow up Laf.” Alex said, still annoyingly relaxed but tone sharper. “I was looking out for you because you can't look out for yourself. It's what we do for each other.”

 

“Don't turn this into some heroic little Alex moment.” Laf snapped, turning away from the boy and starting to pace, afraid he might be tempted to slap the nonchalance off the boy’s face if he continued to glare at him. “You are my best friend and I….I _trusted_ you with how I felt about George. And you embarrassed me by making me look like some reckless child. I know what I'm doing Alexander.”

 

“No,” Alex stood up, setting his noodles down and moving to face Laf. “You _don't._ He's not good for you.”

 

“I don't _fucking_ need you to decide what's good for me!” Laf shouted, surprised at himself for raising his voice but not regretting it. Alex flinched and raised an eyebrow.

 

“I was looking out for you Lafayette.” He repeated stubbornly, and Laf laughed harshly.

 

“I have managed to look out for you all these years without making you look like a dumbass in front of John.”

 

“John and I are different.” Alex retorted and Laf felt bitter fury wash over him completely.

 

“ _How_?!” He practically roared. “You think that you and John have something special? You think that because the professor is older than me, that you're somehow better than me? We're the same Alex. We both want someone we can't have. Stop acting so fucking superior.”

 

“I don't want to fight with you.” Alex grumbled after a moment, clearly running out of logical arguments, and Laf scoffed. _Tough shit, I wanna fight with you._

 

“I was John’s first kiss you know.” Lafayette said, switching tactics, and watched his friend flinch. “Yeah, I was his first _ever_ kiss. Back before you realized he worshipped the ground you walked on and exploited it.”

 

“I…” Alex inhaled deeply. “You're just saying things to hurt me now.”

 

“Yes!” Laf said, shoving Alex a little. “Because you fucking meddled in my love life when I've never said _shit_ about your dysfunctional little episode with John!”

 

“Love life?” Alex laughed cruelly, taking the bait. “It's not a love life if it's just you fantasizing about some old ass man. Who is your _professor_ for christ’s sake.” Laf felt traitorous tears sting his eyes but they were angry, not hurt. He was furious that Alex could talk to him like this, could think he knew better than Laf and therefore had the right to ruin _everything._

 

“I could be his first fuck too you know.” Laf said wickedly, the words dripping with vulgarity. “John. I could be everything you never were. I could teach him how-”

 

Alex finally, _finally_ , shoved Lafayette in return. Laf was surprised by the force of it, stumbling awkwardly backwards, but had to bite back a smile. This he knew how to cope with, this he knew how to handle.

 

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” Alex said and ran a hand through his hair, visibly struggling to remain calm.

 

“Why,” Laf gasped angrily, aware of his voice trembling. “Did you feel the need to _humiliate_ me by giving George the fucking shovel talk? You aren't my goddamn father with a shotgun, I don't need protecting.”

 

“You sure as shit do!” Alex spat back. “Throwing yourself at a man literally twice your age who’s probably too embarrassed for you to tell you to fuck off. It's pathetic.”

 

“Pathetic.” Lafayette inhaled sharply, clenching his fists. “You are one to talk. Pretending to be so fucking confident when you rely on people’s admiration to so much as sleep at night.” Alex’s eyes went ice cold and that should have been Lafayette’s cue that he had taken it too far. It should have warned him to stop and yet, it somehow it urged him on further.

 

“You wanna keep score of who's a more _fucked up_ person?” Alex’s eyes narrowed. “I've never _hit_ a woman.” Lafayette’s entire body went cold.

 

“You don't…..you….” He struggled to think of a response, desperate to hurt Alex as much as the words had stung, but they left him numb, making his ears ring.

 

“I've never been so _desperate_ to escape what a _shitty_ and _selfish_ person I am that I ran away from an entire country.”

 

“You think I am desperate?” Lafayette smirked without feeling, letting his shame and fury and _hurt_ fuel his words, burying the knowledge that he had intentionally drawn this out of Alexander. He had wanted to push Alex, wanted to make him hate him a little. “You are a hurricane of a human being. You push everyone away, no, you _drive_ everyone away.”

 

“Like you're trying to do right now?” Alex accused, hitting too close to home, and Laf huffed indignantly.

 

“Why _John_?” Lafayette practically screeched and Alex blinked, not understanding.

 

“What do you-”

 

“Why does nobody love _me_ ?” He exclaimed, throat burning. He was all too aware of the tears on his cheeks, hot and angry, and he had to look away. “John blushes every time you enter a room and suddenly he’s your soulmate. But oh, you can just fuck me for years, we can be best friends for years, and when I ask you in France if you'll date me you just blow me the fuck off! Am I just not loveable? Do I not know you like _John_ does?”

 

“I never….” Alex took a step backwards, completely overwhelmed. “I didn't think you were serious in France. I didn't know you really felt that way about me.”

 

“I don't.” Lafayette snapped automatically, eyes blazing. “It's not about you Alex. It's about...it's….” _It's about how nobody will ever love me, you fucking idiot. I'm nothing more than my physical form to people. A punchbag to Lee, a way to get off for you until you suddenly decide it's not healthy, some temptation to Washington. What am I? What am I?_

 

By now, Alex had softened completely, watching his friend fall apart in a way that was tearing him into pieces. And Alex misunderstood completely and stepped forward, thinking he could salvage the situation when he, instead, made everything Laf was feeling infinitely worse.

 

Alex reached for Laf, the two not far from one another, and kissed him softly, leaning up on his toes to do so. This wasn't what Lafayette had wanted. _But what did you expect?_ He scolded himself, hating Alex a little bit for not understand, despite Laf not fully understanding himself. _You used John as a metaphor and now he’s trying to throw you a pity fuck, thinking you're just another one of his little fans._

 

Lafayette pushed him away but not roughly, as resisting the physical comfort Alex offered was very hard.

 

“No.” He said and the syllable seemed to take everything out of him. The situation suddenly seemed surreal, like he was watching the events of his life unfold around him from a television screen. _Great time to start fucking dissociating._ But he couldn't bring himself to care. “Alex, I can't.”

 

“But-” Alexander’s confusion was endearing. Or at least it would have been, had he seemed at all familiar to Laf in this moment. “I thought-”

 

“I have to go.” Laf felt like he would scream if he had to face this situation a second longer, so he resorted to his favorite familiar coping mechanism: running away. “I'm sorry but I can't be here right now.”

 

“Lafayette-” Alex reached for him but Laf jerked away, pushing past Alex to grab his keys and his jacket.

 

“Don't fucking touch me.” He replied without any heat, sounding tired.

 

“Where will you go?” Alex asked desperately, looking lost, and Laf paused by the doorway a moment to contemplate this.

 

“With Thomas. Probably. It doesn't matter Alex.”

 

“Will you at least-”

 

Lafayette effectively cut him off by slamming the door behind him, pulling his jacket on inside out without noticing and practically running down the stairs. He stopped once outside the building, the screeching of tires grounding him to reality a little, and inhaled deeply.

 

He walked down the street a little ways, waiting until he was satisfied that Alex wouldn't follow, before pulling out his phone and dialing George.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading please leave a comment!! xoxox
> 
> also shoutout to @ pastpatientlywaiting for consistently leaving my fucking favorite comments on every single chapter. You make my heart squeal
> 
> please come talk to me on my [tumblr,](http://angstyqueerfeminist.tumblr.com/) I dont bite I am but a lonely gay


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